*K 


m 


MY  GARDEN 


A  MOSAIC  OR  TAPESTRY-LIKE  EFFECT  DOES  NOT  SEEM  TO  ME  WHAT  WE 
WANT  IN  OUR  HOME  GARDENS,  BUT  A  GRACIOUS  BLENDING  AND  CONTRASTING 
OF  LOVELY  ELEMENTS — SWEEPS  AND  PATCHES  AND  TRAILS  AND  SPIRES  OF 

DELIGHTFUL  COLOUR  IN  HAPPY  AGREEMENT AND  CERTAINLY  THERE  IS  NO 

MORE     ENTHRALLING     PURSUIT    THAN    THE    HANDLING    OF    THESE    FLORAL 

PIGMENTS" 


MY  GARDEN 


BY 
LOUISE  BEEBE  WILDER 


The  eye  always  asks  for  a  definite  boundary  to  a  piece 
of  ornamental  ground  as  it  does  for  a  frame  to  a  picture. 

—  JOHN  BEDDING 


ILLUSTRATED 

BY 
WILL  SIMMONS 


GARDEN  CITY  NEW  YORK 

DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 

1916 


Copyright,  1916,  by 

DOUBLEDAY,    PAGE    &    COMPANY 

All  rights  reserved,  including  that  of 

translation  into  foreign  languages, 

including  the  Scandinavian 


THIS  BOOK  IS  DEDICATED 
TO  THE  MEMORY 

OF 

MY  MOTHER  AND  FATHER, 
MARY  HARRISON 

AND 

CHARLES  STUART  BEEBE, 
THROUGH  WHOSE  LOVE 

AND  WISDOM 
I  FIRST  OWNED  A  GARDEN 


379673 


Bless  me,  what  a  delightful  prospect  is  here!  And 
so  it  ought  to  be,  for  this  garden  was  designed  for 
pleasure— but  for  honest  pleasure;  the  entertainment 
of  the  sight,  the  smell,  and  refreshment  of  the  mind. 

— ERASMUS. 


A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA 

A  garden  is  preeminently  a  place  to  indulge  individual  taste. 
.  „  .  So  regardless  of  doctors,  let  me  say  that  the  best  general 
rule  that  I  can  devise  for  garden-making  is:  put  all  the  beauty  and 
delightsomeness  you  can  into  your  garden,  get  all  the  beauty  and 
delight  you  can  out  of  your  garden,  never  minding  a  little  mad 
want  of  balance,  and  think  of  the  proprieties  afterward. 

—John  Sedding. 

In  gathering  together  these  notes,  I  have  no  desire, 
nor  am  I  competent,  to  undertake  a  dissertation  upon 
styles  or  schools  of  gardening,  to  pose  as  an  expert  upon 
garden  design  or  the  science  of  horticulture,  or  to  be 
understood  as  laying  down  the  law  upon  any  subject 
whatsoever.  My  wish  is  simply  to  answer  for  others 
some  of  the  questions  which  sorely  perplexed  me  in  my 
early  gardening  days  and  to  tell  the  story  of  my  own 
experiences  with  this  happy  craft  to  those  who  may  be 
treading  the  fragrant  way  a  pace  or  two  behind  me,  not 
that  they  may  miss  a  single  step  in  the  fascinating  path  of 
personal  experiment  and  achievement,  but  only  that  they 
may  enjoy  a  sense  of  friendly  fellowship  without  which 
no  experience,  however  delightful,  proves  quite  satisfying. 


x  A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA 

That  we  have  opinions  does  not,  or  should  not,  mean 
that  we  expect  others  to  espouse  them  immediately  upon 
their  recitation,  and,  if  the  ideas  hereafter  set  forth  are 
expressed  with  some  fervour,  the  spirit  actuating  them  is 
not  dictatorial,  not  even  argumentative,  but  wholly  en- 
thusiastic and  sympathetic. 

There  is  as  much  said  nowadays,  as  there  has  always 
been,  upon  the  styles  of  gardening,  and  each  advocate 
claims  for  his  especial  school  all  the  virtues,  leaving  for 
the  rest  none  at  all,  so  that  it  is  a  bit  bewildering  to  know 
how  so  many  different  kinds  of  gardens  can  be  so  lovely; 
but  the  answer  is,  it  seems  to  me,  that  styles  and  schools 
have  little  to  do  with  the  charm  and  beauty  of  a  garden; 
that  the  vital  secret  lies  much  deeper — in  the  gardener 
himself,  and  is  born  of  his  artistic  perception  and  his 
power  to  take  infinite  pains  to  adapt  his  means  to  an 
end,  which  end  is  loveliness.  In  gardening,  as  in  other 
matters,  the  true  test  of  our  work  is  the  measure  of  our 
possibilities. 

Of  the  various  schools,  our  garden  would  be  termed 
formal,  for  there  are  the  straight  lines,  the  geometrical 
curves,  the  ordered  design,  the  intention  of  man  and  the 
indication  of  his  hand  frankly  confessed  and  plainly 
visible  beneath  the  luxuriance — a  sweet  austerity  dimly 
felt  beneath  the  cajoleries  of  witching  vine  and  creeper, 
of  gay  flowers  rioting  in  their  sun-bathed  beds.  And 
while  I  love  best  the  "balanced  beauty"  "carefully  par- 
celled out  and  enclosed"  of  this  type  of  garden,  I  love,  too, 


A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA  xi 

and  am  deeply  interested  in,  all  other  kinds  of  gardens 
from  the  great  and  magnificent,  with  marble  terraces  and 
stairways,  rare  plants  and  many  gardeners,  to  the  narrow 
border  beside  the  cottage  path  or  the  pot  of  flowers  in 
the  window  of  a  tenement;  for  each  has  sprung  from  the 
desire  of  some  one  to  express  himself  in  beauty,  and  the 
simplicity  of  the  medium  matters  not  at  all. 

As  quoted  at  the  head  of  this  chapter,  "A  garden  is 
preeminently  a  place  to  indulge  individual  taste,"  and 
whether  one  chooses  to  be  Italian,  English,  Japanese, 
Colonial,  or  "natural"  in  one's  style,  or  a  little  of  each, 
one  does  not  achieve  a  lovable,  livable,  intimate  garden 
until  one  has  put  one's  self  into  it — lived  in  it,  worked  in 
it,  dreamed  in  it,  studied  it  and  brooded  over  it  and 
woven  into  its  warp  of  scientific  knowledge  a  woof  of 
sentiment  and  tenderness. 

My  first  garden,  of  which  the  present  is  but  the 
emancipated  and  further  developed  spirit,  was  a  rec- 
tangular space  twelve  feet  long  by  six  feet  wide,  neatly 
enclosed  in  a  fence  of  clothes  pins  and  boasting  in  each 
corner,  by  way  of  embellishment,  a  fine  pink  conch,  and 
in  the  centre  a  milk  pan  sunk  to  the  level  of  the  earth 
and  edged  with  white  pebbles — a  shining  pool!  Near 
one  end  a  shabby  mulberry  tree  cast  a  beneficent 
shadow,  and  in  season  dropped  its  mussy  fruit  among 
the  warring  Zinnias  and  valiantly  coloured  Portulaca. 
Within  this  small  plot  my  love  of  gardening  was  born — a 
lusty  child — and  it  mattered  not  that  there  were  years 


xii  A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA 

of  leanness  when  Chicory  and  Buttercups  must  needs 
come  in  and  hide  neglect  and  failure;  the  child  throve, 
until  now,  in  its  maturity,  it  is  a  companion  that  never 
palls,  a  friend  that  never  fails,  a  never-ending  source  of 
refreshment,  comfort,  and  entertainment. 

It  seems  agreed  that  a  hobby,  not  overridden,  is  a 
wise  possession  for  every  one,  and  it  has  grown  on  me, 
during  these  gardening  years,  that  no  hobby  is  so  safe  and 
sane  for  a  woman  as  a  garden.  It  centres  about  the 
home;  the  children  and  other  members  of  the  family 
may  have  a  part  in  it;  friends  enjoy  it,  and  the  influence 
of  its  beauty  and  sweetness  reaches  far  and  wide.  In  a 
book  called  "  Rural  Essays,"  written  some  seventy 
years  ago  by  Charles  Downing,  the  "father  of  land- 
scape gardening  in  America,"  he  asks:  "What  is  the 
reason  that  American  l&dies  don't  love  to  work  in  their 
gardens?"  He  says  they  like  to  "putter  about"  and 
sow  a  few  China  Aster  seeds,  and  that  a  bouquet  upon 
the  centre  table  is  a  necessity  to  them,  but,  beyond  this, 
they  do  not  go;  and  then  he  draws  very  uncompli- 
mentary comparisons  between  us  and  our  English 
cousins.  But  this  was  seventy  years  ago,  and  I  am  sure, 
if  Mr.  Downing  could  return,  he  would  admit  that  we 
have  begun  to  take  a  good  deal  more  than  a  "puttering" 
interest  in  our  gardens,  that  we  dare  to  go  out  of  doors 
sensibly  clad  and  dig  in  the  ground,  wheel  a  barrow  and 
plant  and  reap  and  exult  after  the  manner  of  our  broth- 
ers and  husbands,  experiencing  the  delicious  weariness 


A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA  xiii 

caused  by  exercise  of  the  muscles  in  the  open  air  which  is 
in  no  way  akin  to  that  heavy  exhaustion  which  comes 
from  much  labour  indoors. 

I  frequently  see,  in  English  gardening  periodicals, 
advertisements  by  women  desiring  positions  as  head  or 
under  gardeners,  and  there  seems  to  me  no  reason  why 
this  should  not  become  one  of  the  professions  properly 
open  to  women.  As  far  as  the  under-gardener's  work  is 
concerned,  it  certainly  requires  no  more  physical 
strength  and  endurance  than  the  work  done  by  many 
women  in  domestic  service,  as  trained  nurses  or  in 
factories,  besides  having  much  to  offer  on  the  side  of 
health.  Of  course  to  be  a  head-gardener  would  require 
both  training  and  experience,  but  this  would  not,  now- 
adays, be  a  difficult  matter,  and  would  become  less  so  as 
the  demand  for  such  training  grew.  I  do  not  wish  to  en- 
croach upon  the  domain  of  man,  but  it  would  seem  that 
many  a  woman,  under  the  necessity  of  earning  her  own 
living,  might  find  health  and  renewed  youth  in  such  an 
occupation,  who  now  wears  herself  out  and  grows  old  be- 
fore her  time  doing  work  of  a  more  confining  or  nerve- 
wearing  nature. 

There  is  an  ancient  superstition,  still  in  force,  though 
less  strong  of  late  years,  that  it  is  not  quite  "nice"  for  a 
woman  to  be  physically  able  to  do  manual  labour  out  of 
doors,  and  if  she  is,  she  should  keep  quiet  about  it. 
When  we  first  came  to  live  in  this  neighbourhood,  where 
there  are  many  small  and  not  very  flourishing  farms,  my 


xiv  A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA 

activities  in  the  garden  were  looked  upon  decidedly 
askance  by  my  neighbours,  for  in  their  world  a  woman's 
social  position  is  more  or  less  determined  by  whether  she 
works  indoors  or  out.  That  a  woman  should,  by  choice, 
spend  hours  in  outdoor  work  in  all  kinds  of  weather  was 
inconceivable,  and  finally  a  neighbour,  who  discovered 
me  weeding  a  bed  of  seedlings  on  a  hot  July  day,  found 
herself  unable  to  keep  silent  upon  the  subject  and  said: 
"There  certainly  ain't  many  ladies  would  work  as  hard 
for  their  men  as  you  do,  Mrs.  Wilder."  I  tried  to  ex- 
plain, but  knew  quite  well  that  it  was  useless,  and  that 
she  was  certain  that  coercion  was  at  the  root  of  my 
labours.  That  was  seven  years  ago  and  I  am  glad  to 
say  that  the  mystery  has  been  cleared  up  for  her  and  for 
others,  and  it  is  a  delight  to  me  to  see  that  more  than  one 
of  these  indoor  workers  is  essaying  a  patch  of  flowers  by 
her  door  and  many  missionarying  roots  and  seeds  find 
their  way  from  here  into  this  promising  territory. 

In  the  old  world  gardening  is  recognized  not  only  as  a 
science,  but  as  a  high  art;  here  it  is  still  largely  a  pastime 
and  not  a  very  general  one  at  that,  as  any  one  may  per- 
ceive who  goes  through  any  of  our  suburbs  and  notes  the 
number  of  places  that  boast  no  more  than  a  few  beds  of 
Salvia  or  Geraniums  and  a  huddle  of  specimen  shrubs  in 
the  corners  of  the  lawns.  Our  men  are  too  busy  to  give 
much  time  to  this  art,  and  while  many  may  have  the 
desire  and  willingly  furnish  the  wherewithal  to  employ  a 
landscape  architect  to  order  and  beautify  their  grounds 


A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA  xv 

and  men  to  keep  them  up,  more  than  this  is  needed  to 
endow  a  garden  with  enduring  charm  and  individuality. 
Just  as  we  wish  to  feel  personality  in  a  room,  so  do  we 
want  to  feel  it  in  a  garden,  and  this  is  the  reason  why 
many  a  simple  cottage  garden,  personally  tended  by  its 
owner,  will  be  far  greater  in  its  appeal  than  a  handsome 
one  possessing  many  attributes  of  beauty  but  left  en- 
tirely to  paid  care.  And  I  feel  that  if  our  gardens  are  to 
take  their  place  beside  those  of  the  older  countries  it 
rests  with  the  American  women  to  place  them  there.  A 
number  of  women  have  taken  up  landscape  gardening  as 
a  profession,  and  this  is  hopeful,  for  they  will  seek  to  in- 
terest other  women  in  their  art;  but  it  is  a  certainty  that 
if  every  American  woman  who  has  a  piece  of  ground 
under  her  control  would  spend  upon  it  a  small  part  of 
the  taste,  ability,  and  energy  which  she  applies  to  the 
ordering  and  beautifying  of  her  home,  we  should  have 
the  most  beautiful  gardens  in  the  world.  It  seems  to 
me,  in  my  enthusiasm,  that  there  could  be  no  more  up- 
lifting and  refining  influence,  not  only  upon  the  family 
life,  but  upon  the  nation  at  large. 

It  was  John  Sedding  whose  beautiful  and  appreciative 
book  on  "Garden  Craft"*  I  earnestly  commend  to  all 
lovers  of  the  subject,  who  speaks  of  the  garden  as  a 
"sweetener  of  human  existence,"  and  says:  "Apart 
from  its  other  uses,  there  is  no  spot  like  a  garden  for  cul- 
tivating the  kindly  social  virtues.  Its  perfectness  puts 

""  Garden  Craft.  Old  and  New." 


xvi  A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA 

people  upon  their  best  behaviour.  Its  nice  refinement 
secures  the  mood  for  politeness.  Its  heightened  beauty 
produces  the  disposition  that  delights  in  what  is  beauti- 
ful in  form  and  colour.  Its  queenly  graciousness  of 
mien  inspires  the  reluctant  loyalty  of  even  the  stoniest 
mind.  Here,  if  anywhere,  will  the  human  hedgehog 
unroll  himself  and  deign  to  be  companionable.  Here, 
friend  Smith  caught  by  its  nameless  charm,  will  drop  his 
brassy  gabble  and  dare  to  be  idealistic;  and  Jones,  for- 
getful of  the  main  chance  and  'bulls'  and  'bears/  will 
throw  the  rein  of  his  sweeter  self  and  reveal  that  latent 
elevation  of  soul  and  tendency  to  romance  known  only 
to  his  wife." 


CONTENTS 


A  FOREWORD  AND  A  PLEA 


PAGE 


CHAPTER 

I.    IN  THE  MAKING 3 

II.    THE  NURSERY 28 

III.  THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  AND  THE  NEXT     .     .  46 

IV.  MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN 66 

V.    JUNE  MAGIC 84 

VI.    JULY  PROBLEMS 100 

VII.    WANING  SUMMER 115 

VIII.    AUTUMN  BEAUTY 127 

IX.    BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS 140 

X.    BORDER  IRISES 159 

XI.    THE  LURE  OF  THE  LILY 176 

XII.    WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS 188 

XIII.  SHRUBS 205 

XIV.  FLOWERING  TREES  IN  THE  BORDERS     ....  223 
XV.    GREEN  DRAPERIES 235 

XVI.    TROUBLE .     *  256 

XVII.  PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    .     .     *     .     .  270 

XVIII.  THE  HERB  GARDEN  289 


LIST  OF  ILLUSTRATIONS 

Colored  drawing  on  wrapper.  From  a  painting 
by  Miss  Winegar 

"A  mosaic  or  tapestry-like  effect  does  not  seem 
to  me  what  we  want  in  our  home  gardens'* 

Frontispiece 

FACING  PAGE 

"When  down  in  the  garden  sweet  Daffodil  'un- 
ties her  yellow  bonnet/  it  is  a  'time  o'  dreams' '  54 

"A  grand  burst  of  Pseonies  usually  celebrates 
the  arrival  of  June"  ---------  84 

"Wherever  the  eye  wanders  is  a  lovely  picture — 
the  gay  throng  of  Foxgloves,  Sweet  Williams, 
Irises,  Paeonies,  Pinks,  and  old-fashioned 
Roses" 92 

"Hollyhocks  are  among  the  most  pictorial  of 
plants,  and  it  is  very  difficult  to  find  anything 
else  to  take  their  place" 102 

"Groups  of  garnet-jewelled  speciosum  Lilies  here 
and  there  in  the  borders  lend  a  touch  of  ele- 
gance and  distinction  to  the  garden"  -  -  -  128 

"Many  of  these  are  roses  of  yesterday,  old- 
fashioned,  sweet-breathed,  and  simple"  -  -  142 

"When  one  sees  the  rainbow  banners  of  the  Iris 
unfurling  along  the  borders  in  the  sunshine  it 
seems  highly  probable  that  the  mantle  of  their 
namesake  has  fallen  upon  them"  -  -  -  -  -  160 

xix 


MY  GARDEN 


CHAPTER  ONE 

IN   THE   MAKING 

Take  thy  plastic  spade,  it  is  thy  pencil;  take  thy  seed,  thy  plants, 
they  are  thy  colours.  — Mason. 

ITT  IS  well,  I  think,  for  all  gardeners,  present  or  pros- 
pective, to  be  reminded  that  the  words  "garden," 
•*-  "yard,"  and  "orchard"  all  spring  from  an  Aryan 
root  meaning  an  enclosure;  for  apparently,  in  the  general 
letting  down  of  barriers,  which  seems  to  be  the  order  of 
our  day,  there  is  more  than  a  little  danger  of  the  garden 
losing  one  of  its  greatest  charms — that  of  privacy  and 
peaceful  seclusion. 

Many  suburban  places  are  quite  open  to  the  street,  so 
that  for  all  freedom  from  observation  their  owners  may 
enjoy  they  might  as  well  be  in  a  public  park;  and  often, 
on  large  country  places,  the  space  devoted  to  flowers  is 
not  divided  from  the  surrounding  country  by  any 
distinct  boundary,  but  trails  away  indefinitely,  so  that 
one  quite  loses  the  significant  delight  of  going  into  the 
garden,  of  being  within  an  enclosure  set  apart  for  a 
special  and  beautiful  purpose. 

For  many  centuries  the  idea  of  a  garden  as  an  en- 
closed, protected  area  prevailed,  and,  indeed,  it  is  only 

3 


„*,  ;°  ^  a*;.," -,*••>»-     >    -.    " 

;"M?:- 

4  MY  GARDEN 

recently,  since  Kent*  "leaped  the  fence  and  saw  that 
all  nature  was  a  garden,"  that  such  an  anomaly  as  a 
barrierless  garden  was  thought  of,  much  less  perpe- 
trated. In  the  early  gardening  days  of  the  old  world 
walls  and  stout  fences  were  needed  for  protection;  but 
later,  in  less  strenuous  times,  were  retained  for  the  sake 
of  the  peace  and  privacy  they  insured.  And,  it  seems  to 
me,  that  no  pleasanter  picture  for  our  emulation  can  be 
called  to  mind  than  those  little  walled  gardens  of  long 
ago — the  trim,  straight  paths,  the  little  beds  and  nar- 
row, straight  borders  filled  with  friendly  and  lovely 
things,  the  shadowing  Crab  and  Cherry  trees — a  spot 
converted  from  the  common  land  and  made  intimate  and 
personal,  sacred  to  beauty  and  sweetness,  to  delight- 
ful work  and  quiet  meditation.  To  me,  a  garden  un- 
enclosed can  never  quite  deserve  the  name,  however 
beautiful  the  flowers;  and  I  feel  sure  that  any  one  who 
has  ever  owned  a  garden  gate,  and  known  the  rare  en- 
joyment of  passing  through  and  closing  it  behind  him, 
will  understand  and  support  my  preference. 

There  are  many  ways  of  encompassing  the  garden; 
walls  of  old  brick  or  stone  create  an  especially  agreeable 
atmosphere  and  a  splendid  background  for  the  flowers, 
but  in  many  cases  these  are  not  possible  and  sometimes 
not  desirable,  and  one  has  the  choice  between  clipped  or 
free-growing  hedges,  trellis  or  paling  fences,  wire  fences 
overgrown  with  vines,  or  posts  set  at  intervals  with  ropes 

*Walpole's  "Modern  Gardening." 


IN  THE  MAKING  5 

or  chains  hung  between,  upon  which  Roses  or  other  long- 
limbed  vines  may  be  trained. 

For  small  gardens  or  for  divisions  between  different 
parts  of  large  gardens,  the  wooden  trellis,  painted  white 
or  very  light  green,  is  extremely  pretty;  and  even  the 
white  paling  fence,  when  used  to  enclose  simple  gardens 
of  the  cottage  type,  is  both  attractive  and  appropriate. 
But  for  general  use  and  beauty,  next  to  walls  of  stone  or 
brick,  I  think  a  fine  evergreen  hedge  close-clipped  to  a 
formal  line  is  unsurpassed.  The  dark  colour  of  this 
hedge  throws  the  brilliancy  of  the  flowers  into  high  re- 
lief and  the  severity  of  line  creates  a  charming  foil  for  the 
luxuriant  unrestraint  within. 

Three  true  evergreens  make  satisfactory  hedges  in  our 
Northern  climate:  our  fine  Hemlock  (Tsuga  Canadensis), 
the  Norway  Spruce  (Picea  excelsa),  and  the  common 
American  Arborvitse  (Thuja  occidentalis) ,  the  last  of 
which  is  the  least  expensive  and  makes  a  handsome  hedge. 

Privet  is  very  nearly  evergreen  in  our  climate,  and 
for  cheapness,  quick  growth,  and  ease  of  management 
has  much  to  be  said  in  its  favour.  Many  urge  against  it 
on  account  of  its  reputation  as  a  ravenous  feeder,  but  I 
feel  that  we  should  not  be  frightened  away  from  so  good 
a  shrub  on  this  ground,  for  it  offers  us  the  opportunity  of 
having  a  fine  hedge  in  a  comparatively  short  time  and  at 
small  expense,  and  where  much  hedging  is  to  be  done 
this  latter  point  must  usually  be  taken  into  considera- 
tion. Privet  should  be  cut  hard  back  the  first  two 


6  MY  GARDEN 

seasons  after  planting  in  early  spring — this  to  insure  a 
compact  growth  at  the  base — and  thereafter  the  prun- 
ing may  be  done  in  June  when  the  spring  growth  of  the 
young  shoots  is  accomplished. 

The  management  of  the  evergreen  hedge,  the  first 
few  years  after  planting,  is  all  important,  and  I  think  I 
could  not  do  better  than  to  quote  the  following  enlight- 
ening instructions  from  "The  Book  of  Topiary"*:  "No 
matter  how  much  it  is  desired  to  get  a  hedge  quickly 
grown  in  a  certain  place,  whether  for  shelter  or  anything 
else,  it  is  the  greatest  possible  mistake  to  sacrifice 
strength  and  substance  to  a  desire  to  promote  rapid 
growth,  a  result  that  is  certain  to  occur  if  a  hedge  is 
allowed  to  grow  eight  or  ten  feet  before  it  is  stopped. 
Nothing  should  be  done  to  a  hedge  in  the  way  of  clipping 
the  same  autumn  or  winter  it  is  planted,  and  perhaps 
not  even  the  following  autumn,  but  each  year  afterward 
it  should  be  stopped,  and  never  allowed  to  make  more 
than  a  few  inches  of  growth  each  year.  By  following 
the  system  of  stopping  the  growth  every  year,  the 
length  of  time  required  to  grow  a  hedge  eight  or  ten  feet 
in  height  is  greatly  extended.  But  the  result  will  amply 
repay  the  extra  time  that  has  been  taken  to  grow  it; 
you  will  get  a  hedge  full  of  strength  and  substance,  and 
well  furnished  with  young  growths  from  top  to  bottom. 
But  if  the  other  system  is  followed  of  allowing  the  hedge 
to  get  to  its  full  height  before  any  clipping  is  done,  you 

*  "The  Book  of  Topiary."  by  Charles  H.  Curtis  and  W.  Gibson. 


IN  THE  MAKING  7 

will  have  a  hedge  that  is  lacking  in  strength  and  sub- 
stance, easily  blown  out  of  shape  by  every  wind,  and  also 
one  that  is  very  difficult  to  clip  in  anything  like  a 
proper  way,  on  account  of  its  many  strong  branches 
growing  toward  the  outside  that  should  have  been  re- 
moved to  make  room  for  a  thicker  growth.  Each  year, 
when  the  work  of  clipping  is  being  done,  a  sharp  lookout 
should  be  kept  for  all  small  branches  or  shoots  that  are 
inclined  to  grow  toward  the  outside  of  the  tree  or  hedge, 
and  these  must  be  removed  whenever  they  are  seen.  .  .  . 
Those  shoots  in  the  course  of  a  few  years  will  grow  into 
strong  branches,  and  become  a  regular  nuisance  in  the 
way  of  keeping  them  constantly  tied  in." 

A  hedge  may  be  cut  into  any  desired  form  at  the  top, 
but  exactness  is  of  prime  importance.  A  garden  line 
should  be  run  on  either  side  at  the  bottom  of  the  hedge 
and  another  along  the  top  at  the  desired  height.  In  the 
case  of  a  hedge  cut  into  battlements  a  line  should  be 
used  at  the  top  and  base  of  the  battlements,  "  and  what- 
ever size  and  width  the  battlements  are,  say,  for  in- 
stance, two  feet  high  and  two  feet  in  width  between 
them,  a  stick  cut  exactly  two  feet  in  length,  or  a  two- 
foot  rule  should  be  used  to  measure  the  exact  height  and 
distance  between  the  battlements." 

Some  people  care  for  free-growing,  flowering  hedges, 
but  I  think  they  are  not  positive  enough  to  serve  as 
a  fence,  but  may  be  very  charming  following  paths  or 
drives  or  used  as  a  screen. 


8  MY  GARDEN, 

Having  got  the  garden  securely  enclosed,  the  next 
step  is  the  careful  preparation  of  beds  and  borders,  that 
our  plants  may  dwell  in  peace  and  wax  in  strength  and 
beauty  year  after  year.  And  this  must  be  done  with 
generosity  and  thoroughness,  a  little  at  a  time,  if  all  may 
not  be  done  properly  at  once,  for  there  is  no  manner  of 
use  in  trying  to  raise  up  a  family  of  fine  and  vigorous 
plants  on  food  which  does  not  nourish  them,  or  under 
conditions  which  are  not  comfortable  for  them. 

Here  we  dig  out  the  beds  and  borders,  to  a  depth  of 
two  feet,  filling  them  in  again  with  alternate  layers  of 
manure  and  good  soil — a  heavy  layer  of  manure  at  the 
bottom — to  within  five  inches  of  the  top.  This  is  then 
well  forked  together,  and  about  nine  inches  of  the  best 
soil  procurable  filled  into  the  remaining  space,  raising  it  a 
few  inches  above  the  surrounding  ground  to  allow  for 
settling.  This  top  layer  may  be  the  top  spit  of  the  soil 
already  in  the  garden,  if  it  is  good  enough,  or  it  may  be 
brought,  as  in  our  case,  from  some  old  pasture  land  or 
from  the  woods.  If  the  soil  used  to  fill  the  main  body  of 
the  beds  is  very  heavy,  the  addition  of  wood  ashes  and 
sand  will  be  useful  in  bringing  it  to  the  proper  state  of 
nice  loaminess;  and  if  dry  and  light,  the  layers  of  manure 
may  be  made  a  little  heavier.  If  this  work  is  done  in  the 
autumn,  as  is  advisable,  a  dressing  of  slaked  lime  will 
combine  with  the  frost  and  sunshine  in  making  our  soil 
of  a  most  delectable  consistency — and  surely,  all  this 
accomplished,  no  sweet  and  normal  plant  would  have 


IN  THE  MAKING  9 

the  heart  to  withhold  from  us  the  sunshine  of  its 
smiles. 

The  edging  of  the  beds  and  borders  is  rather  a  vexing 
problem,  for  upon  it  depends,  a  good  deal,  the  appear- 
ance of  the  garden.  All  sorts  of  things  have  been  tried 
from  glass  bottles  and  shells  to  the  trim  and  seemly 
Box.  For  the  garden  laying  not  too  great  a  claim  to 
magnificence,  I  think  no  edging  is  prettier  than  large  ir- 
regular stones  sunk  part  way  in  the  earth.  Over  these 
stones  many  a  charming  alpine  will  creep  and  tumble  so 
grateful  for  the  moist,  cool  root-run  between  the  stones 
and  for  the  warm  surface  over  which  they  may  spread 
themselves  to  sun  and  air  that  they  burst  forth  with 
such  a  praise  of  blossoming  that  one  thinks  anxiously  of 
the  endurance  of  their  little  material  bodies  under  the 
strain  of  so  lavish  a  manifestation  of  the  spirit.  Arabis, 
Aubrietia,  Alyssum,  Arenaria,  Saponaria  ocymoides, 
Cerastium,  Iberis,  creeping  Veronicas,  and  Gypsoph- 
ilas,  Pinks  in  delicious  variety,  Thrift,  Stonecrops, 
Silenes,  Campanulas,  alpine  Phloxes,  and  many  an- 
other small  and  lovely  thing  will  create  a  jewelled  set- 
ting for  the  taller  plants  and  may  be  brought,  by  a  little 
care  in  then*  arrangement,  into  delightful  harmony 
with  the  rest  of  the  border. 

Box  edgings  are  charming  and  create  always  an  at- 
mosphere of  sweet  and  comely  reserve,  while  the  "far, 
strict  scent,"  rising  from  its  dark,  shining  surfaces, 
carries  one  dreaming  into  the  past.  Flowers  seem  to 


10  MY  GARDEN 

behave  themselves  behind  Box  edgings — they  do  not  get 
out  into  the  path,  nor  sprawl  about,  but  seem  somehow 
imbued  with  the  prim  manners  of  Box — but  this  will  be 
considered  romancing,  and  the  fact  is  that  Box  is  fright- 
fully expensive  and  grows  very  slowly,  but  if  one  can 
afford  both  to  pay  for  it  and  to  wait  for  it  there  is 
nothing  quite  so  good  to  possess. 

Turf  edgings  are  very  popular  and  always  look  well  if 
taken  care  of,  but  they  must  be  kept  absolutely  true  to 
line  and  shorn  the  sleekest,  or  they  will  present  a  ragged 
and  slovenly  appearance.  Edgings  of  brick  set  on  end 
are  sometimes  used,  but  the  frost  is  apt  to  throw  them 
out  of  place  during  the  winter.  Concrete  edgings  are 
durable  and  satisfactory,  and  edgings  of  boards  firmly 
pegged  into  the  earth  and  painted  white  or  green  are 
both  quaint  and  useful  for  unpretentious  gardens. 
Grass  and  Scotch  Pinks  make  pretty  border  edges,  and 
in  Elizabethen  days  Thrift  and  Germander  were  much 
utilized  for  this  purpose.  Dwarf  Irises  such  as  pumila 
and  cristata  are  firm  and  pretty  along  the  front  of  the 
borders,  and  English  Ivy,  pegged  down  and  trained  to 
form  an  edging,  has  also  been  used.  Here  we  have  the 
stone  edgings  mainly,  and  also  some  concrete  in  the 
main  garden,  and,  in  the  Nursery  and  Herb  garden,  we 
have  used  wood  painted  white. 

The  question  of  what  to  put  in  our  beds  and  borders, 
now  that  we  have  them  enclosed  and  trimly  edged,  is 
such  a  broad  and  beguiling  one  that  it  may  not  be 


IN  THE  MAKING  11 

squeezed  into  the  narrow  space  of  a  chapter,  and  besides, 
each  one  of  us  must  desire  and  choose  his  own  flowers  or 
he  loses  the  very  pith  of  the  pleasure.  But  a  few  gen- 
eralities are  permissible.  Gardens  of  the  most  lasting 
satisfaction  and  beauty  are  those  in  which  hardy  her- 
baceous perennials  are  the  foundation.  By  these,  I 
mean  those  plants  whose  leaves  and  stems  die  down  in 
winter  but  whose  roots  endure;  among  those  we  include, 
rightly  I  think,  the  hardy  spring  bulbs  and  Lilies. 
Shrubs  also  are  permanent  residents  in  the  garden  and 
play  an  important  part,  but  annuals,  tender  bedders, 
and  such  bulbs  and  roots  as  Gladioli  and  Dahlias,  are  in- 
cidental, mere  decorations,  subject  to  our  caprice,  while 
the  herbaceous  folk  and  shrubs  come  into  the  garden  as 
long-tenure  residents,  and  upon  them  the  stability  and 
strength  of  the  garden  depends. 

I  take  it  that  with  most  of  us  the  goal  aimed  at  in  our 
gardening  is  not  simply  to  form  a  large  collection  of 
plants  as  specimens,  but  to  so  choose  and  arrange  our 
material  as  to  create  as  fine  and  full  an  effect  as  possible 
over  a  period  of  five  or  six  months.  This  does  not  pre- 
clude thinking  of  and  treating  our  plants  as  individuals; 
quite  the  contrary,  for  to  meet  with  any  success  in  the 
management  of  our  garden  world,  we  must  know  very 
well  the  needs  and  habits  and  possibilities  of  each  of  its 
tenants.  In  pursuance  of  this  end,  it  is  wise  to  care- 
fully consider  one's  garden  conditions  in  relation  to  the 
plants  it  is  desired  to  install,  and  not  try  to  force  upon 


12  MY  GARDEN 

reluctant,  helpless  plants  conditions  which  are  utterly 
unsuitable.  For  beneficent  Nature  has  so  bountifully 
provided  for  us  that  no  one  need  be  without  an  over- 
flowing joyous  garden  if  he  will  but  observe  her  gentle 
laws  and  respect  the  simple  requirements  of  her  flower 
people. 

The  ideal  garden  has  a  southern  or  southeastern  ex- 
posure and  provides  both  sunshine  and  shadow,  both 
heavy  and  light  soils,  and  even  a  little  damp  spot  for  the 
accommodation  of  a  few  moisture  lovers,  and  where  one 
has  the  making  of  one's  garden  from  the  very  beginning, 
it  is  often  possible  to  have  all  these  luxuries. 

To  go  back  to  the  planting  of  the  beds  and  borders,  if 
they  are  wide,  say  six  to  twelve  feet,  shrubs  may  be  used 
among  the  hardy  plants  with  fine  effect  along  the  back 
and  may  even  venture  an  occasional  representation 
toward  the  front,  so  forming  alcoves  within  the  shelter 
of  which  one  may  create  some  especially  lovely  picture. 
Here  and  there  along  the  borders  a  lightly  made  flower- 
ing tree  may  cast  a  gracious  shadow,  and  bulbs  may  be 
planted  in  clumps  and  patches  everywhere. 

In  choosing  one's  plants  it  is  well  to  select  those  whose 
bloom  is  not  too  ephemeral  and  whose  habit  is  good — 
that  is,  whose  form  and  foliage  are  fine  and  lasting,  thus 
securing  a  more  permanently  full  effect.  If  one  is  not 
familiar  with  the  appearance  of  many  plants,  the  botan- 
ical gardens  and  nurseries  offer  a  valuable  means  of 
forming  a  closer  acquaintance,  and  both  those  institu- 


IN  THE  MAKING  13 

tions  are  making  some  effort  nowadays  at  harmonious 
grouping,  which  is  very  helpful  to  the  novice  in  forming 
an  opinion  as  to  the  relative  merits  of  the  various  plants 
to  his  particular  uses. 

If  such  plants  as  Foxgloves,  Delphiniums,  Valerian 
Canterbury  Bells  and  Oriental  Poppies,  that  die  down  or 
must  be  cut  to  the  ground  after  flowering,  are  planted  in 
front  of  some  of  the  long-armed  brethren,  such  as  hardy 
Asters  or  Gypsophila,  the  blank  left  by  their  depart- 
ure will  bloom  again,  for  the  long  branches  maybe  drawn 
over  the  vacant  spaces.  Plants  with  especially  fine  and 
lasting  foliage  should  be  given  due  prominence.  Of  these 
are  the  Flag  Irises,  Fraxinella,  Funkias,  Baptisias,  Achillea 
filipendulina  (A.  Eupatorium),  Phloxes,  Lemon  Lilies, 
Geums,  Pseonies,  Heleniums,  Galega,  Heucheras,  Lyth- 
rum  Salicaria,  Potentillas,  Dicentras,  Thalictrums,  Ely- 
mus,  Santolina,  Stachys  lanata,  Artemisia  abrotanum, 
Rue,  and  Nepeta  Mussini.  Such  scantily  clothed  plants 
as  Lilies,  Gladioli,  Tuberoses,  and  Asphodels  need  the 
foliage  of  other  plants  to  screen  their  naked  stalks,  and 
are  always  weak  in  effect  if  planted  in  large  groups  with- 
out this  borrowed  greenery. 

In  small  beds  and  narrow  borders,  and  indeed  in  any 
save  good-sized  gardens,  plants  of  great  size  and  per- 
vasive character  such  as  Boltonias,  many  Helianthuses, 
Polygonums,  Bocconia,  and  Golden  Glow,  are  best 
omitted,  and  choice  made  among  the  more  conservative, 
of  which  there  are  a  great  number. 


14  MY  GARDEN 

The  best  effect  is  arrived  at  in  the  borders  by  mass- 
ing the  plants  in  irregular  groups  of  one  kind,  the  size  of 
the  group  to  be  determined  by  the  length  and  breadth  of 
the  bed  or  border,  and  there  must  be  some  attention 
paid  to  gradation  in  the  relative  heights  of  the  different 
groups.  Thus,  a  group  of  some  eigh teen-inch  plants  is 
badly  placed  in  front  of  one  attaining  a  height  of  seven 
feet!  In  the  main,  tall  plants  should  be  kept  at  the 
back,  those  of  medium  height  in  the  centre,  and  dwarf 
and  creeping  things  along  the  front,  but  one  need  not 
adhere  too  consistently  to  this  rule  but  rather  strive  for 
a  rolling  contour — plains,  foothills,  and  mountains,  if  one 
may  use  so  gigantic  a  simile — the  highlands  creeping  out 
over  the  plains  and  the  plains  reaching  back  among  the 
hills.  Spaces  may  be  left  here  and  there  for  patches  of 
long-flowering  annuals,  and  these  may  also  be  used  to 
fill  the  places  of  such  hardy  plants  as  may  have  died 
during  the  winter. 

There  has  been  much  written  of  late  as  to  how  to  keep 
the  entire  garden  in  full  bloom  from  early  spring  until 
frost,  and  varied  and  vain  were  my  attempts  in  the  days 
of  my  novitiate  to  accomplish  this  feat  that  I  now  feel 
would  be  of  doubtful  desirability  even  were  it  possible. 
In  our  climate  where  the  importunities  of  the  sun  rushes 
our  plants  from  youth  to  a  precocious  maturity  and  on 
to  early  oblivion,  the  blossoming  period  of  the  individual 
plants  is  so  much  shorter  than  in  climates  of  moister 
atmosphere  and  less  torrid  summers  that  to  keep  all 


IN  THE  MAKING  15 

parts  of  the  garden  in  bloom  at  all  seasons  would  re- 
quire so  immense  a  variety  of  plants  that  a  most  spotty 
and  restless  effect  would  be  the  result,  and  such  exact 
knowledge  of  the  plants  would  be  necessary  that  few 
amateurs  could  hope  to  acquire  it.  A  few  lovely  pic- 
tures for  each  season  is  about  all  we  can  hope  to  accom- 
plish successfully  in  the  garden  devoted  to  herbaceous 
perennials  and  designed  to  be  beautiful  for  six  months  of 
the  year.  These  pictures  may  vary  in  number  and  size 
according  to  the  dimensions  of  the  garden  they  are  to 
adorn,  and  may  be  made  up  of  groups  of  two  or  more 
kinds  of  plants  blooming  together  and  for  about  the 
same  length  of  time.  Of  course  close  observation, 
study,  and  experience  are  required  to  so  create  these 
blossoming  groups  that  at  no  time  is  the  garden  without 
an  effective  number;  and  nothing  is  more  helpful  than  to 
keep  an  exact  record  of  the  blossoming  periods  of  such 
plants  as  are  where  we  can  observe  them. 

Garden  colour  scheming  has  become  something  like  a 
craze — we  talk  colour  schemes,  write  colour  schemes, 
read  them,  and  try  to  create  them.  Like  all  obsessions, 
this  charming  pastime  is  in  grave  danger  of  being  done 
to  death,  of  degenerating  by  means  of  extreme  precise- 
ness  of  finish  into  something  not  so  far  from  the  carpet 
bedding,  which  we,  in  our  boasted  enlightenment,  pro- 
fess to  despise.  A  mosaic  or  tapestry-like  effect  does 
not  seem  to  me  what  we  want  in  our  home  gardens,  but  a 
gracious  blending  and  contrasting  of  lovely  elements — 


16  MY  GARDEN 

sweeps  and  patches  and  trails  and  spires  of  delightful 
colour  in  happy  agreement — and  certainly  there  is  no 
more  enthralling  pursuit  than  the  handling  of  these 
floral  pigments.  It  is  not  nearly  so  difficult  as  it  sounds, 
for  few  flower  colours  are  really  fiercely  opposed  to  one 
another,  and  none  are  bad  if  given  the  companion  neces- 
sary to  bring  out  their  best  qualities.  Of  course  the 
colour  sense  is  individual,  and  what  appeals  to  one  may 
not  to  another  and  so,  after  all,  one  can  but  express  one's 
own  feelings. 

To  me,  strong  contrasts  in  the  garden  are  seldom 
happy;  plants  having  the  same  strength  of  colour  are 
best  kept  out  of  each  other's  company,  or  the  resulting 
effect  will  be  crude  and  hard.  The  yellow  of  Coreopsis 
and  the  deep  blue  of  such  a  Delphinium  as  King  is,  to 
my  colour  sense,  both  glaring  and  unpleasant;  but 
the  soft  yellow  of  California  Poppies  and  the  blue  of 
Veronica  spicata  is  agreeable.  Just  so,  opaque  white 
flowers  are  not  pleasing  in  close  proximity  to  strong  red 
or  blue  flowers  but  should  have  an  admixture  of  soften- 
ing foliage  or  some  intermediate  shade.  Many  flowers, 
quite  strong  in  colour,  are,  as  one  might  say,  tender  in 
their  strength,  a  sort  of  bloom  seems  to  lie  upon  them 
there,  more  as  an  intangible  impression  than  in  fact. 
This  is  true  of  many  blue  flowers,  some  of  the  Delphin- 
iums, Monkshoods,  and  Chinese  Bellflowers  in  par- 
ticular, and  this  quality  makes  it  possible,  though  I  can- 
not explain  why,  to  place  them  happily  with  flowers  of 


IN  THE  MAKING  17 

great  strength  of  colour.  Thus,  Monkshood  and  Tiger 
Lilies  make  a  most  splendid  picture  quite  lacking  the 
rawness  of  Coreopsis  and  Delphinium  though  quite  as 
brilliant.  Harmony,  not  contrast,  or  agreement,  not 
opposition,  is  a  good  rule  for  the  garden  colour  schemer, 
the  great  M.  Chevreaul  to  the  contrary, notwithstanding. 
That  eminent  authority  on  colour  in  the  section  de- 
voted to  the  arrangement  of  flowers  in  his  book,  "The 
Principles  of  Harmony  and  Contrast  of  Colours,"  directs 
us  to  place  yellow  flowers  with  red  flowers,  yellow  with 
blue,  deep  red  with  deep  blue,  and  white  with  any  and 
all.  But  pink  flowers  must  not  approach  rose  flowers, 
yellow  must  be  wary  of  orange,  and  blue  and  pink  must 
not  touch  violet.  Are  we  thus  to  be  deprived  of  such 
subtle  and  exquisite  associations  as  Peach  Blossoms  and 
purple  Crocuses,  lavender  and  pink  China  Roses, 
lavender  Phlox  and  blue  Monkshood,  dark-red  Holly- 
hocks and  orange  Lilies,  sky-blue  Flax  and  purple  Iris, 
and  a  thousand  more? 

As  I  said  before,  the  colour  sense  must  ever  be  in- 
dividual and  one's  expression  of  it  original  and  personal, 
but  there  are  a  few  simple  laws  which  have  helped  me 
greatly  in  the  harmonious  disposition  of  my  flowers. 
Contrast  between  the  primary  colours,  red,  blue,  and 
yellow,  is  too  harsh  and  sudden;  contrast  between  the 
secondary  colours,  green,  violet,  and  orange,  while  strik- 
ing, is  not  crude  or  raw.  White  is  constantly  spoken  of 
as  a  peacemaker  and  much  used  in  gardens  to  separate 


18  MY  GARDEN 

discordant  colours,  but,  while  it  separates  them,  it  so 
heightens  the  tone  of  each  that,  instead  of  drawing  them 
into  agreement,  it  further  opposes  them  to  each  other, 
and  instead  of  a  charming  whole,  we  see  three  sharply 
contrasting  units. 

The  too  free  use  of  white  in  the  garden,  especially 
the  hard  white  worn  by  Moonpenny  Daisies,  Iberis,  and 
Canterbury  Bells,  will  ever  result  in  spottiness  and  un- 
rest. I  feel  that  the  gardener  should  get  his  effects  by 
gentle  measures ;  his  groups  may,  if  desired,  be  strong  in 
colour,  but  at  the  same  time,  deep  and  rich,  not  high  and 
sharp.  And  this  result  can  be  obtained  only  by  the  use 
of  strong  colours  closely  related  to  one  another. 

A  few  years  ago  I  saw  at  the  wonderful  gardens  of 
St.  Pagans  Castle  in  Wales  a  border  which  will  illus- 
trate this  point.  It  was  about  seventy  yards  long  and 
eight  feet  wide  and  was  backed  by  a  high  wall  curtained 
with  creamy  Wichuraiana  Roses.  Against  this  soften- 
ing background,  in  bold  groups,  were  garnet  and  salmon- 
coloured  Hollyhocks,  with  alternating  groups  of  dull 
blue  Monkshood  lying  like  shadows  between.  In  front 
were  great  colonies  of  flaming  Tritomas,  Tiger  Lilies, 
gray-blue  Delphiniums,  blazing  Montbretia,  and  tall 
salmon-pink  Snapdragons.  Along  the  front,  rioting 
above  the  trim  Box  edging,  were  Orange  King  Snap- 
dragons, buff  Calendula,  and  scarlet  and  sky-blue 
Anagallis.  Daring  indeed,  but  inspired,  was  he  who 
brought  those  colours  together.  Arresting  in  its  bril- 


IN  THE  MAKING  19 

liance,  this  border  was  yet  visualized  as  a  magnificent 
whole  which  seemed  to  reflect  the  luminosity  and  glow 
of  the  sunset  sky,  filling  one's  soul  with  a  sense  of  ful- 
ness, strength,  and  satisfaction.  How  different  was  the 
border  seen  a  few  days  ago,  where  a  splendid  effect  was 
attempted  by  the  use  of  Delphiniums,  Scarlet  Lychnis, 
and  Coreopsis.  There  the  colours  were  no  more  brilliant, 
but  being  so  fiercely  opposed,  the  result  was  one  of  rest- 
less motion — floral  fidgets,  one  might  say — and  one  was 
forced  to  see  and  consider  each  plant  as  a  separate 
element. 

Dark,  rich  colours — garnet,  purple,  very  dark  blue, 
and  the  dark  green  of  Box  or  other  evergreens — are 
more  efficient  than  white  in  harmonizing  crude  opposing 
colours,  for  they  tend  to  lower  their  tones  instead  of 
heightening  them.  Note  the  softening  effect  of  dark 
garnet  velvet  Sweet  Williams  upon  the  raw  colour  of 
Lychnis  chalcedonica.  Gray  foliage,  in  even  greater 
degree  than  white,  accentuates  the  colours  to  which 
it  is  contiguous  and,  like  white,  is  most  satisfying 
when  associated  with  the  tender  broken  tones — laven- 
der, pinky-mauve,  heliotrope,  blush,  rose,  pink,  salmon, 
cream,  and  buff.  Gray  and  the  various  white  tones — 
cream,  gray-white,  and  greenish-white — also  associate 
well,  and  all  these  soft  shades  are  charming  in  each  other's 
company  and  may  be  used  freely  with  the  primary  and 
secondary  colours. 

Some  people  are  much  more  highly  sensitive  to  colour 


20  MY  GARDEN 

than  others,  and  to  these,  after  they  have  acquired  some 
knowledge  of  their  floral  pigments,  the  creating  of 
lovely  pictures  in  the  garden  will  be  instinctive;  but 
those  whose  colour  sense  is  less  developed  must  culti- 
vate it  as  a  tea  taster  educates  his  palate,  or  as  a  per- 
fumer his  olfactory  nerve.  Nature  may  be  his  teacher, 
the  woods  and  fields  and  marshes  at  all  seasons  his  class- 
room; and  the  daring  or  tender  blendings  of  colours  in  a 
single  flower  should  be  a  constant  help  and  inspiration. 

Magenta  is  a  colour  that  gives  the  gardener  a  good 
deal  of  trouble,  but  there  are  many  fine  flowers  wearing 
this  turbulent  shade  which  are  lovely  enough  if  re- 
moved from  the  neighbourhood  of  antagonistic  shades 
and  placed  in  congenial  surroundings.  The  clouded 
blue  of  Monkshood  is  fine  with  the  magenta  of  Rose 
Loosestrife  and  all  the  buff,  creamy,  and  gray-white 
flowers  and  gray  foliage  encourage  this  usually  com- 
bative tint  to  show  its  softest  side.  The  two  colours 
most  difficult  to  me  are  the  raw  scarlet  of  the  Lychnis 
and  the  crude  yellow  worn  by  Coreopsis  and  some  of  the 
sunflowers,  but  even  these  may  be  modified  and  brought 
into  peaceful  agreement  with  their  surroundings  by  the 
near  neighbourhood  of  softening  influences. 

Personally,  gardens  of  one  colour  do  not  interest  me 
particularly,  though  I  have  seen  many  very  well  worked 
out.  Yellow  gardens  contrived  in  all  the  shades  from 
buff  and  cream  to  orange  are  very  effective,  and  also  the 
purple  tints  from  palest  mauve,  with  much  silvery  and 


IN  THE  MAKING  21 

hoary  foliage,  to  strong  red-purple  and  violet.  White 
gardens,  too,  are  very  charming,  especially  toward  even- 
ing or  by  moonlight.  The  finest  one  I  have  seen  was  in 
England  and  was  made*  up  of  annuals,  perennials, 
bulbs,  Roses,  and  shrubs.  I  put  down  the  names  of 
most  of  the  plants  in  a  notebook  and  give  it  here  for 
those  who  may  care  to  create  a  "ghost  garden." 

Bulbs. 

Chionodoxa  Ludliae  var.  alba,  White  Crocus,  Galanihus  nivalis 
and  Elwesii,  Scilla  sibirica  var.  alba,  White  Tulips  and  Grape 
Hyacinths,  Fritillaria  Meleagris  var.  alba,  Hyacinthus  orientalis, 
Leucojum  vernum,  Poet's  Narcissus. 

Spanish  and  English  Iris,  Madonna  Lilies,  Hyacinthus  candicans, 
Gladioli. 

Plants. 

Helleborus  niger,  Anemone  nemorosa,  sylvestris,  and  Pulsatitta 
var.  alba,  Arabis,  Arenaria  montana,  Iberis,  Cerastium,  Dicentra 
cucullaria,  Lathyrus  vernus  var.  alba,  Omphalodes  verna,  var.  alba, 
white  Iceland  Poppies,  Phlox  subulata  vars.  Nelsoni  and  alba, 
Bloodroot,  white  Trilliums,  white  Periwinkle,  white  sweet  Violets, 
St.  Brunos  Lily,  white  Columbine,  Sweet  Woodruff,  Centaurea 
montana  var.  alba,  Lily  of  the  Valley,  Dianthus  Mrs.  Sinkins,  Iris 
florentina  var.  alba,  Iris  Innocence,  Iris  Snowqueen,  Iris  sibirica 
var.  alba,  White  Flax,  white  Paeonies — single  and  double,  white 
Sweet  William,  Jacob's  Ladder,  and  Spiderwort,  Silene  alpestris 
Stellaria  Holostea,  Fraxinella,  Achillea  The  Pearl,  White  Foxgloves, 
and  Canterbury  Bells,  Campanula  persidfolia  var.  alba,  carpathica 
var.  alba,  pyramidalis  var.  alba  and  lactiflora  alba  magnifica. 
Moonpenny  Daisies,  Clematis  recta,  Crambe  cordifolia,  Gypsophila 
paniculata  and  repens,  white  Goat's-rue,  Sweet  Rocket,  Heuchera 
sanguined  var.  alba.  White  Lupines,  Oenothera  eximea.  White 
Chinese  Bellflowers,  Silene  maritima,  Spiraea  aruncus,  Yucca 
flamentosa,  Aconitum  napellus  var.  album,  white  Willow  herb, 


22  MY  GARDEN 

Funkia  subcordata,  white  Bergamot,  Phlox  Miss  Lingard  and  late 
white  Phloxes,  Physostegia  virginica  var.  alba.  Sedum  album, 
Boltonia,  Pyreihrum  uliginosum,  Pentstemon  Digitalis,  Cimicifuga, 
white  Mallows,  Anemone  Japonica  vars.  alba  and  Whirlwind, 
white  Hardy  Asters,  Chrysanthemum  nipponicum,  Veronica  vir- 
ginica, Artemisia  lactiflora. 

Annuals. 

Petunias,  Verbenas,  Phlox  Drummondii,  Sweet  Alyssum,  Candy- 
tuft, Stocks,  Snapdragons,  Sweet  Sultans,  Asters,  Clarkia,  single 
and  double  Poppies,  Cosmos,  and  single  Dahlias. 

Besides  these  there  were  climbing  and  bush  Roses, 
pure  white  or  creamy,  and  many  white-flowered  shrubs — 
Magnolias,  Lilacs,  Philadelphus,  Spiraea,  and  Deutzia, 
white  Wisteria  and  large  and  small  flowered  Clematis. 
The  garden  was  enclosed  in  a  hedge  of  dark  evergreens 
and  gleamed  and  shimmered  against  the  sombre  back- 
ground with  strange  fascination.  Gray  foliage  might  be 
put  to  effective  use  in  such  a  garden,  and  a  list  of  suitable 
plants  will  be  found  in  the  chapter,  "Plants  for  Special 
Situations." 

THE  UPKEEP  OF  THE  BORDERS 

Keeping  the  borders  in  good  order  during  the  summer 
is  a  simple  matter  if  a  few  tasks  are  faithfully  performed. 
The  first  and  most  important  of  them  is  staking — a 
matter  in  which  all  our  ingenuity  may  be  employed.  If 
not  done  at  all  or  if  badly  done,  the  finest  garden  will, 
after  the  first  hard  storm,  be  a  sad  spectacle.  In  ex- 
posed gardens  there  are  few  plants  over  medium  height 
which  do  not  require  support,  and  even  in  sheltered 


IN  THE  MAKING  £3 

gardens  it  is  best  to  stake  all  fairly  tall  plants  that  have 
slender  stems. 

The  most  important  point  about  staking  is  that  it 
shall  be  done  as  inconspicuously  as  possible  and  in  such 
a  manner  that  the  plant  is  not  diverted  from  its  natural 
habit  of  growth.  For  most  purposes,  the  green  wooden 
stakes,  for  sale  by  all  seed  houses,  are  best  adapted. 
Plants  with  a  single  stem,  such  as  Lilies,  Foxgloves,  and 
Mulleins,  may  have  the  stake  (always  considerably 
shorter  than  the  full  height  of  the  plant)  placed  behind 
the  stem  and  secured  with  green  raffia  about  the  centre 
of  the  stem,  leaving  the  upper  half  to  curve  gracefully 
at  will.  It  may  be  necessary  to  change  the  stakes  once, 
anyway,  during  the  growth  of  very  tall  plants,  and  such 
strong  growing  plants  as  Mulleins,  Hollyhocks,  and 
Dahlias  will  require  very  heavy  stakes.  Plants  with 
many  stems,  such  as  Boltonias  and  Heleniums,  should 
have  several  heavy  stakes  placed  in  and  about  the 
clumps  with  strong  cord  stretched  from  stake  to  stake, 
thus  allowing  all  the  stems  to  maintain  their  natural 
position  while  still  being  upheld.  The  fine  appearance 
of  such  plants  is  quite  spoiled  if  they  are  bunched  to- 
gether and  tied  to  a  single  stake. 

Plants  with  long,  weak  stems  and  broad,  heavy 
flower  heads,  as  Michaelmas  Daisies  and  Gypsophila 
paniculata,  are  best  supported  on  pea  brush,  the  weak 
stems  being  drawn  over  and  tied  to  the  spreading 
branches  of  the  brush.  When  the  plants  have  attained 


24  MY  GARDEN 

their  full  height,  any  unsightly  ends  of  the  brush  may  be 
cut  off. 

The  removal  of  all  withered  flowers  is  of  considerable 
importance  in  the  fair  appearance  of  the  garden.  The 
self-sown  seedlings  of  many  plants — Phlox,  for  instance 
— are  a  real  nuisance;  and  besides  this,  most  annuals, 
and  a  fair  number  of  perennials,  may  be  kept  in  bloom 
for  a  greatly  lengthened  period  if  the  plants  are  not 
allowed  to  seed.  This  is  particularly  true  of  Moon- 
penny  Daisies,  Geums,  Erigeron  speciosus,  and  the 
hardy  Cornflower  (Centaurea  montand).  The  blooming 
period  of  Phlox,  Mulleins,  and  Anchusas  may  be  ex- 
tended if  the  flower  stalk  is  cut  just  below  the  lowest 
blossom;  auxiliary  flower  stems  will  then  be  sent  out  at 
once.  Foxgloves  may  be  bewitched  into  perennialism  if 
the  flower  stalks  are  cut  to  the  ground  immediately 
after  fading.  Hardy  young  plants  will  form  around 
the  old  crown.  This  is  also  true  of  Hollyhocks.  Many 
low-growing  plants,  such  as  Pinks,  Aubrietias,  Iberis, 
Cerastium,  Sun  Roses,  and  Golden  Alyssum  are  much 
benefited  by  a  severe  shearing  after  their  bloom  is  past. 
They  are  apt  to  become  very  untidy  in  appearance,  but  if 
well  cut  back  will  soon  regain  their  tidy,  rounded  form. 

In  the  summer  care  of  the  garden,  cultivation  of  the 
soil  is  more  important  than  watering.  The  latter 
should  not  be  done  at  all  unless  thoroughly — that  is,  the 
soil  soaked  at  least  two  inches  below  the  surface.  Our 
own  method  is  to  stick  the  rake  handle  in  the  ground, 


IN  THE  MAKING  25 

placing  the  hose  nozzle  between  the  tines  and  allowing 
it  to  remain  in  one  spot  for  several  hours.  In  dry 
weather  it  takes  two  or  three  days  to  get  all  round  the 
garden  but  the  effect  is  lasting,  and  when  this  method  is 
used  the  watering  may  be  done  in  full  sunshine  without 
injury  to  the  plants. 

The  soil  of  the  beds  and  borders  should  be  kept  well 
stirred  always,  as  this  not  only  conserves  the  moisture 
but  does  much  toward  discouraging  weeds.  We  always 
stir  the  soil  after  a  heavy  rain,  for  the  soil  is  then  most 
apt  to  form  a  hard  crust. 

After  the  garden  has  been  made  for  a  year  or  two, 
some  renovation  will  be  required  each  succeeding  year. 
This  is  best  done  in  the  autumn.  The  large  spreading 
clumps  of  plants  need  to  be  lifted  and  divided  and  the 
soil  enriched,  and  this,  with  the  beds  and  borders  full  of 
bulbs  and  the  ground  between  the  larger  plants  pretty 
well  carpeted  with  creeping  things,  is  rather  difficult. 
Each  fall  we  decide  upon  a  certain  section  of  the  garden 
to  be  "done  over,"  then  in  early  October  we  take  every- 
thing out  of  that  section  except  shrubs  and  climbers. 
The  bulbs  are  dug  up  carefully  and  laid  in  piles  on 
the  garden-house  porch  and  labelled,  and  the  plants 
are  also  taken  up,  divided,  and  set  in  the  shade.  The 
space  is  then  well  spaded  and  a  quantity  of  well-rotted 
manure,  with  a  generous  supply  of  wood  ashes,  is  in- 
corporated with  the  soil.  When  the  surface  is  raked 
smooth,  we  replace  the  disturbed  inhabitants,  adding 


26  MY  GARDEN 

some  and  leaving  out  others  that  did  not  come  up  to  the 
standard.  We  attempt  only  what  we  can  finish  in  a 
day,  as  the  plants  must  not  be  long  left  out  of  the 
ground,  and  we  manage  to  get  all  round  the  garden 
about  every  three  years. 

Some  plants,  such  as  "Japanese  Anemones,  Pseonies, 
Fraxinella,  and  Sea  Lavender,  with  a  known  antipathy 
for  interference,  we  dig  carefully  around  and  arrange  a 
little  tempting  food  within  their  reach. 

In  a  series  of  very  helpful  articles  which  appeared  in 
The  Garden  for  February  and  March,  1914,  Mr.  Brother- 
son  writes  the  following:  "I  know  there  exists  a  kind  of 
horror  at  the  thought  of  introducing  a  spade  among 
established  herbaceous  plants,  the  dear  roots  being 
objects  of  much  concern,  lest  they  should  be  severed. 
May  I  express  the  conviction  that  nothing  better  could 
happen  to  the  plants  next  to  lifting  and  replanting.  By 
digging  deeply  and  carefully  among  them  they  are  di- 
vested of  useless  roots  and  an  improved  root  run  is  pro- 
vided, into  which  new  roots  to  take  the  place  of  those 
removed  will  quickly  find  their  way,  to  the  great  bene- 
fit of  the  plants.  Manure  about  twelve  months  old  is 
best  fitted  for  mixing  with  the  soil  under  these  condi- 
tions." I  have  seen  the  beautiful  gardens  at  Preston- 
kirk,  Scotland,  over  which  Mr.  Brotherson  presides,  and 
their  superb  well-being  is  all  the  testimony  required  that 
this  seemingly  drastic  treatment  is  not  only  safe  but 
most  efficacious. 


IN  THE  MAKING  27 

In  closing  this  chapter  I  should  like  in  some  way  to 
make  others  feel  the  joy  of  doing  at  least  a  part  of  the 
garden  work  one's  self;  do  not  turn  all  this  possible 
pleasure  over  to  some  one  else.  Many  women  will  con- 
tend that  they  are  not  strong  enough  and,  of  course, 
very  sadly,  some  are  not;  but  the  rest  will,  I  feel  sure  if 
they  make  an  attempt,  be  greatly  astonished  at  their 
power  which  will  increase  tenfold  as  the  magic  of  fresh 
air  and  sunshine  gets  in  its  rejuvenating  work,  and  those 
same  timid  ones  will  be  astonished  at,  and  I  hope  thank- 
ful for,  the  sound  sleep,  the  quiet  mind,  and  the  absorb- 
ing interest  which  will  be  theirs.  "It  is  of  those  few 
pleasures  which  age  cannot  wither,"  and  for  this  rea- 
son alone  one  might  do  well  to  give  it  a  trial.  Love 
your  garden  and  work  in  it  and  let  it  give  you  what  it 
surely  will  of  sweetness,  health,  and  content,  and  let  no 
one  feel  that  the  benefit  is  all  on  the  side  of  the  garden, 
for  truly  you  will  receive  more  than  you  give,  no  matter 
how  faithfully  you  work,  and  you  will  soon  find  your- 
self more  dependent  upon  your  garden  than  your  garden 
upon  you. 


CHAPTER  TWO 

THE  NURSERY 

Labour  is  the  House  that  Love  dwells  in. 

— Russian  Proverb. 

A~~  L  nurseries  summon  our  interest  and  sympathy 
whether  they  shelter  human  babies  or  those  of 
the  animal  kingdom,  and  the  nursery  which 
guards  seedling  plants  is  not  by  any  means  the  least  in 
its  appeal  to  our  tender  protectiveness  and  maternal 
solicitude. 

These  little  babies  of  the  plant  world  need  us  and  de- 
pend upon  our  care.  If  we  neglect  them,  they  languish; 
if  we  desert  them,  they  perish;  we  must  feed  them,  pro- 
tect them  from  cold  or  extreme  heat,  nurse  them  if 
assailed  by  disease,  and  watching  carefully  their  growth 
provide,  when  it  is  needed,  a  wider  sphere  in  which  they 
may  expand  and  develop.  Wherever  there  are  young 
and  tender  things  looking  to  us  for  support,  there  are  we 
apt  to  be  deeply  interested,  and  herein  lies  the  fascina- 
tion of  the  plant  nursery.  A  garden  is  as  incomplete 
without  this  adjunct  as  a  home,  and  no  gardener  knows 
the  full  joy  of  his  craft  who  does  not  care  for  his  plants 
from  seedhood  to  maturity,  making  them  his  own  as  no 
bought  plants  can  ever  be.  To  buy  plants  already  past 

28 


THE  NURSERY  29 

the  dangers  of  infancy  is  a  convenience  and  sometimes 
wise,  but  besides  being  very  expensive,  one  is  depriving 
one's  self  of  one  of  the  most  beautiful  and  illuminating'of 
experiences. 

A  nursery  may  be  a  pot  or  box  of  earth  in  a  sunny 
window,  or  it  may  be  a  piece  of  ground  of  any  size  to 
suit  the  convenience  and  desire  of  the  gardener,  from  a 
small  seed  bed  to  a  large  tract  of  land  designed  to  raise 
great  numbers  of  plants  for  a  very  large  garden.  As 
striking  a  happy  medium  between  these  two,  and  an- 
swering satisfactorily  the  needs  of  a  modest  garden,  I 
will  describe  our  own  nursery  and  its  uses.  It  lies  in 
two  exactly  similar  squares  at  the  back  of  the  walled 
garden,  and  on  either  side  of  the  Herb  garden.  A 
Privet  hedge  encloses  it  on  two  sides,  the  low  wall  and 
trellis  fence  of  the  Herb  garden  the  third,  and  the  high 
wall  of  the  flower  garden  on  the  fourth,  which  also  pro- 
tects it  from  the  north  and  provides  a  sheltered  situation 
for  certain  tender  things.  On  the  lower  section  this  space 
along  the  wall  is  occupied  by  a  small  tool-house,  a  row  of 
covered  bins  to  hold  silver  sand,  coarse  sand,  and  leaf- 
mold,  and  the  cold  frames  which  are  four  feet  deep  and 
divided  into  six  sections.  A  four-foot  border  extends  all 
round  the  two  nurseries  and  the  rest  is  parcelled  out  into 
rectangular  beds  three  and  four  feet  wide  and  of  varying 
lengths,  with  gravel  paths  between.  The  little  beds  are 
enclosed  by  board  edgings  firmly  pegged  into  the  ground 
at  the  corners  and  painted  white,  as  is  all  the  woodwork 


30  MY  GARDEN 

in  the  nurseries.  There  are  a  number  of  hose  outlets, 
that  all  may  be  kept  sweet  and  fresh,  the  hedges  are 
sharply  clipped,  the  paths  trim  and  free  from  weeds,  and 
the  straight  rows  of  lusty  young  plants  in  the  beds  speak 
eloquently  of  their  entire  comfort  and  well-being.  This 
is  the  fountain  head  of  the  whole  garden,  and  as  such  can- 
not be  too  carefully  conducted.  The  border  that  fol- 
lows the  boundaries  is  used  as  a  hospital  for  sick  or  sulky 
plants  brought  from  the  gardens,  as  a  temporary  abode 
for  some  which  have  been  crowded  out  of  one  place  and 
not  yet  assigned  to  another,  and  as  a  cutting  garden. 
The  rectangular  beds,  which  by  reason  of  their  narrow- 
ness are  easily  weeded  and  cultivated,  are  mainly  used  to 
house  the  young  perennials  raised  in  the  frames,  but 
here  also  are  brought  bulbs  and  plants  new  to  us,  that 
they  may  be  tested  and  understood  before  being  in- 
troduced to  the  choice  circle  beyond  the  garden  wall. 
The  soil  in  these  beds  is  light  and  only  moderately  rich, 
that  the  young  plants  may  find  no  obstacle  to  their 
tender  rootlets,  and  that  they  may  not  be  rushed  on  to  a 
too  precocious  development  through  overfeeding.  The 
soil  in  the  outside  borders,  as  devoted  to  the  more  ma- 
ture, is  somewhat  heavier  and  richer. 

The  propagation  of  plants  is  the  chief  business  carried 
on  in  the  nursery.  This  is  done  by  means  of  seeds,  cut- 
tings, and  the  division  of  roots.  There  is  no  more  ab- 
sorbing occupation  than  raising  plants  from  seed.  I 
never  quite  get  over  the  wonder  of  my  early  gardening 


THE  NURSERY  31 

days,  that  seeds  come  up  at  all,  and  that  they  fulfil 
very  nearly  their  catalogue  descriptions.  But  they  do, 
in  the  main,  and  while  some  are  not  quite  so  gorgeous 
and  accommodating  as  their  sponsors  would  have  us  be- 
lieve, others  are  lovely  and  sweet,  quite  beyond  the 
power  of  the  cataloguist  to  describe. 

Hawthorne  wrote:  "It  is  one  of  the  most  bewitching 
sights  in  the  world  to  observe  a  hill  of  beans  thrusting 
aside  the  soil,  or  a  row  of  early  peas  just  peeping  forth 
sufficiently  to  trace  a  line  of  delicate  green."  And  how 
much  more  bewitching,  when  we  can  follow  in  imagi- 
nation this  delicate  green  embroidery  to  its  final 
realization  of  colour  and  fragrance,  rather  than  to  the 
predestined  material  end  of  Hawthorne's  peas  and 
beans. 

Occasionally  we  have  rebelliously  to  realize  that 
"often  out  of  fifty  seeds  great  Nature  brings  but  one  to 
bear,"  but  while  this  is  probably  true  of  the  seed  of  wild 
plants,  left  to  the  mercy  of  all  sorts  of  adverse  condi- 
tions, it  need  very  seldom  be  true  in  the  garden,  if  a  few 
simple  and  sensible  laws  are  observed.  In  the  first 
place,  it  is  all  important  to  procure  good,  sound  seed,  and 
so  we  should  apply  to  the  best  seed  houses  only,  and  be 
willing  to  pay  a  fair  price.  Next  to  the  vitality  of,  or 
power  of  the  seed  to  reproduce  itself,  the  soil  is  the  im- 
portant matter.  It  should  be  light,  moderately  rich, 
and  pervious  to  moisture,  and  whether  the  seeds  are  to 
be  raised  in  a  frame,  in  the  open  ground,  or  in  a  flat  in- 


32  MY  GARDEN 

doors,  the  preparation  of  the  soil  and  the  treatment  of 
the  seeds  is  in  the  main  identical.  The  prepared  soil  for 
the  seed  bed  need  not  be  deeper  than  five  inches,  and  a 
good  composition  is  two  parts  good  garden  soil,  one  part 
leaf -mold,  and  one  part  coarse  sand,  with  a  good  sprink- 
ling of  wood  ashes.  This  should  be  chopped  and  raked 
smooth,  and  upon  the  top  should  be  spread  an  inch  of 
good  soil,  or  leaf -mold  and  fine  sand,  in  equal  parts,  put 
through  a  moderately  fine  sieve.  We  use  the  frames 
almost  entirely  for  raising  seeds,  it  is  so  much  safer  than 
the  open  ground,  and  we  find  infant  mortality  greatly 
lessened  if  manure,  either  fresh  or  old,  is  not  used, 
as  it  frequently  harbours  insects,  or  their  eggs,  which 
ravenously  feed  upon  the  tender  seedlings.  That 
they  may  be  easily  weeded  and  otherwise  cared  for, 
seeds  are  best  sown  in  straight  rows  five  or  six  inches 
apart,  and  not  scattered  broadcast,  and  each  row  should 
have  at  its  head  a  wooden  label,  bearing  the  name  of  the 
plant  and  the  date  of  sowing  written  with  an  indelible 
pencil. 

Large  seeds  such  as  those  of  Lupines,  Iris,  or  Lathyrus, 
may  be  soaked  in  warm  water  for  a  few  hours  before 
planting,  and  sown  in  drills  a  half  inch  deep.  For  seeds 
of  medium  size,  Delphiniums,  Pinks,  or  Geums,  we  pre- 
pare a  place  by  pressing  a  lath  (cut  to  fit  the  width  of 
the  frame  or  bed)  firmly  into  the  soil,  and  sow  the  seed 
upon  this  flat  surface,  covering  it  to  about  twice  its  own 
depth  with  sandy  soil.  Seeds  of  the  light  and  feathery 


THE  NURSERY  33 

character  of  Gaillardias,  Centaureas,  and  Armeria  profit 
by  a  greater  depth  of  covering  than  the  heavier  seeds. 

Thin  sowing  of  all  seed  is  important,  but  particularly 
so  in  the  case  of  very  fine  seed  like  that  of  Verbascums 
which  grow  into  huge  plants.  If  the  seed  is  mixed  with 
a  little  silver  sand  before  sowing,  it  is  more  easily  and 
evenly  distributed.  Fine  seed  needs  no  covering,  but 
should  be  sown  on  the  loose  surface  of  the  soil  and 
pressed  in  with  a  flat  board.  Many  alpines  have  fine 
seed,  and  as  some  of  them  are  also  very  slow  in  germinat- 
ing, we  sow  them  in  shallow  pots  of  prepared  soil  which 
are  placed  in  the  frames  but  can  be  moved  about  at  will. 
The  soil  should  be  thoroughly  moist  before  seed  is  sown 
upon  it,  and  the  watering  thereafter  should  be  done 
through  a  fine  rose  spray,  for  the  seeds  are  easily  washed 
from  the  earth,  and  nothing  so  disturbs  a  tiny  plant  as  a 
rude  stream  of  water. 

Seeds  vary  much  in  the  time  they  take  to  germinate. 
Annuals  are,  as  a  rule,  much  more  expeditious  than 
perennials,  the  average  time  required  by  most  of  them 
being  from  three  to  five  days,  while  perennials  take  any- 
where from  ten  days  to  a  year  or  two.  Thus,  sometimes 
when  we  think  we  have  met  with  failure,  it  is  not  so,  but 
simply  that  the  psychological  moment  for  germination 
has  not  yet  arrived.  Pinks,  Poppies,  Wallflowers,  Fox- 
gloves, and  Hollyhocks  germinate  in  a  short  time,  while 
Adonis,  Hepatica,  Dictamnus,  Christmas  Rose,  Ere- 
murus,  and  the  beautiful  California  Tree  Poppy  (Romn- 


34  MY  GARDEN 

eya  Coulteri)  may  be  a  year  or  more  in  rousing  their 
little  green  souls  to  energy  and  action.  Being  rather 
impatient  for  results,  I  do  not  care  to  raise  these  slow- 
coaches from  seed,  and  buy  them  ready  grown — but  if 
growing  them  from  seed  is  undertaken,  they  should  be 
planted  somewhat  deeper  than  would  ordinarily  be  the 
case,  in  some  spot  where  they  may  take  their  time,  se- 
cure from  disturbance — and  carefully  labelled. 

Until  the  little  green  backs  are  seen  to  hump  up  along 
the  straight  rows,  the  seed  bed  is  best  entirely  protected 
from  the  sun,  and  should  thereafter  have  full  sunshine 
for  part  of  the  day  only,  and  the  soil  must  never  dry  out. 
One  good  drying  out  may  mean  death  to  a  whole  frame 
full  of  green  babies — a  calamity  not  to  be  borne  with 
resignation. 

Seeds  may  be  sown  indoors  in  a  box  in  January, 
February,  and  March,  and  pricked  out  into  other  boxes 
when  large  enough  to  handle.  An  outdoor  seed  bed  is 
best  not  started  until  May.  Here  we  have  found  the 
use  of  the  cold  frames  so  invaluable  for  raising  tender 
annuals  and  perennials  that  we  use  no  other  means, 
save  when  the  frames  are  overcrowded 'and  we  must  re- 
sort to  the  hot  beds  in  the  kitchen  garden,  or  entrust 
such  reliable  folk  as  Sweet  William,  Coreopsis,  and  Fox- 
gloves to  the  open  air.  In  the  frames  the  little  plants 
are  much  more  easily  protected  from  all  the  blights  that 
lay  in  wait  for  infant  plant  life — frost  and  sun,  drought 
and  beating  rains,  weeds,  insects,  and  all  forms  of  de- 


THE  NURSERY  35 

struct! ve  animal  life.  We  sow  tender  annuals  late  in 
March,  keeping  the  lights  down  save  for  an  occasional 
airing  on  fine  days  and  covering  them  with  mats  at 
night.  The  perennials  we  sow  in  late  April.  To  pro- 
tect the  seedlings  from  the  too  fierce  attentions  of  the  sun 
we  use  a  light  framework  of  inch  strips  nailed  an  inch 
apart  to  a  somewhat  heavier  bottom  and  top  strip. 
These  are  made  to  fit  the  frame  sections,  and  remain  on 
after  the  glass  is  permanently  lifted  upon  the  arrival  of 
warm  weather.  Thus  the  seedlings  are  always  pro- 
tected from  the  sun,  which  would  otherwise  cause  the 
speedy  evaporation  of  the  moisture,  and  also  from  the 
beating  of  our  heavy  spring  and  summer  rains. 

When  the  seedlings  have  stretched  themselves  to  a 
size  requiring  more  room,  other  quarters  must  be  given 
them.  The  tender  annuals  are  thinned  out  and  trans- 
planted to  another  frame,  but  the  more  deliberate  per- 
ennials are  not  moved  until  they  may  be  set  out  in 
the  nursery,  which  is  usually  some  time  in  June.  A 
cloudy  day  is  the  best  for  this  task,  and  we  use  a  small 
mason's  trowel  to  dig  up  the  tiny  plants,  depositing 
them  in  a  lard  pail  of  water  to  prevent  drying  of  the 
tender  rootlets.  Small  holes  are  dug  with  the  mason's 
trowel,  deep  enough  to  take  the  little  plants  without 
bending,  and  are  filled  part  way  with  soil,  well  watered, 
and  the  rest  filled  up  with  dry  earth.  If  the  weather  is 
hot  and  dry,  we  cover  choice  or  difficult  seedlings  with 
inverted  flower  pots  during  the  heat  of  the  day  and 


36  MY  GARDEN 

water  well  after  sundown,  while  to  protect  the  sturdier 
stock,  we  use  slat  frames  similar  to  those  before  de- 
scribed but  made  to  fit  and  rest  upon  the  board  en- 
closures of  the  nursery  beds.  The  young  plants  remain 
in  the  nursery  until  the  autumn  or  following  spring,  when 
they  have  reached  a  size  enabling  them  to  make  their 
appearance  in  the  great  world  of  the  flower  garden. 

Plants  apt  to  be  frail  in  youth,  such  as  Lavender  and 
Wallflowers,  are  given  the  protection  of  a  frame  over 
their  first  winter.  Pansies  and  Snapdragons  are  also 
carried  safely  over,  and  seedlings  born  too  late  in  the 
season  to  be  trusted  to  a  winter  in  the  open  air. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  perennials  we  have  raised 
from  seed  in  the  manner  described.  One  packet  each  of 
the  kinds  named  will  give  thousands  of  little  plants, 
enough  to  stock  a  very  large  garden,  and  will  cost  under 
$15.  Consider  the  cost  of  a  thousand  plants  bought  at 
ten,  fifteen,  or  twenty-five  cents  each,  and  the  advantage 
of  the  nursery  is  obvious ! 

Those  marked  *  in  the  list  are  alpines  and  require  a 
little  more  care. 

Achilleas,  in  var. 

Aconitum  Napellus  and  Wilsonii. 

Aethionema  coridifolium*  and  grandiflorum*. 

Alyssum  vars.  saxatile  compactum  and  rostratum. 

Anchusa  italica  Dropmore  Variety. 

Aquilegia  chrysantha,  caerulea  and  californica. 

Arabis  albida  and  alpina. 

Arenaria  montana. 

Armeria  maritima  and  latifolia. 


THE  NURSERY  37 

Asters,  Hardy,  in  var. 

Aubrietia,  in  var. 

Agrostemma  coronaria. 

Baptisia  australis. 

Calandrinia  umbellata. 

Campanula  carpatica,  glomerata,  lactiflora,  latifolia,  pusilla*,  persi- 
cifolia  and  pyramidalis. 

Callirhoe  involucrata. 

Canterbury  Bells. 

Catananche  caerulea. 

Centaurea  macrocephala  and  montana. 

Centranihus  coccineus. 

Cerastium  tomentosum. 

Chrysanthemum  maximum,  in  var. 

Clematis  davidiana  and  recta. 

Corydalis  lutea  and  cheilanthifolia. 

Cforeopsis  grandiflora. 

Crucinella  stylosa. 

Cytisus  scoparius  hybrids. 

Delphiniums,  in  var. 

Dianthus  arenarius*,  caesius*,  deltoides,  fragrans,  neglectus*,  super- 
bus,  sylvestris*,  plumarius. 

Digitalis  alba,  purpurea  and  ambigua. 

Draba  aizoides*. 

Erigeron  speciosus  and  aurantiacus. 

Erinus  alpinus*. 

Eryngium  alpinum,  maritimum  and  giganteum. 

Erysimum  rupestre*  (syn.  pulchellum). 

GaiUardia  grandiflora. 

Galega  officinalis. 

Geum  Heldreichii. 

Gypsophila  paniculata  and  repens*. 

Helenium,  in  var. 

Helianthemum,  in  var. 

Helianthus,  in  var. 

Heuchera  sanguinea  and  brizoides. 

Hollyhock. 


38  MY  GARDEN 

Hypericum  calycinum  and  repens*. 

Iberis  sempervirens. 

Iris,  in  var. 

Lathyrus  luteus  var.  aureus. 

Lavendula,  in  var. 

Linaria  alpina*,  and  dalmatica. 

Linum  alpinum*,  flavum,  narbonense,  perenne. 

Lunaria  biennis. 

Lupinus  polyphyllus,  in  var. 

Lychnis  alpina*,  chalcedonica,  Viscaria  splendens. 

Malva  moschata  var.  rosea. 

Myosotis,  in  var. 

Papaver  orientale,  nudicaule,  and  pilosum. 

Platycodon  grandiflorum  and  Mariessi. 

Potentilla,  in  var. 

Pyrethrum  roseum. 

Rudbeckia  purpurea  and  Newmani. 

Salvia  azurea  and  pratensis. 

Saponaria  ocymoides  var.  splendens. 

Scabiosa  caucasica  and  japonica. 

Silene  acaulis*,  alpestris*,  Asterias*,  Schafta*. 

Sweet  Rocket. 

Sweet  William. 

Thymus,  in  var. 

Tunica  saxifraga. 

Verbascum,  in  var. 

Veronica  incana,  spicata,  saxatilis*. 

Wallflower. 

Much  of  the  success  in  growing  biennials  from  seed 
lies  in  starting  them  early  so  that  we  shall  have  large 
plants  by  the  time  we  are  ready  to  put  them  in  perma- 
nent places.  If  sowing  is  put  off  until  July,  as  is  often 
recommended,  we  seldom  have  plants  that  are  strong 
enough  to  bloom  the  following  season.  The  best  results 
accrue  from  sowing  in  the  frames  in  early  April  or  in  an 


THE  NURSERY  39 

outdoor  seed  bed  not  later  than  the  first  of  May.  True 
biennials  are  Foxgloves,  Canterbury  Bells,  Verbascum 
olympicum,  Campanula  pyramidalis,  Lunaria  biennis, 
and  Anchusa  Italica.  A  number  of  plants,  not  true 
biennials,  are  much  more  satisfactory  when  treated  as 
such.  Of  these  are  Sweet  William,  Hollyhock,  Wall- 
flower, Columbine,  Lupines,  Sweet  Rocket,  and  Forget- 
me-not. 

Plants  of  large  leaves  and  sturdy  growth,  such  as 
Campanulas,  Hollyhocks,  Mulleins,  Foxgloves,  and  An- 
chusas,  should  be  sown  in  a  frame  to  themselves,  as  they 
would  quickly  overpower  small  plants  and  tiny  alpines. 

It  is  interesting  and  helpful  to  make  the  acquaint- 
ance of  a  certain  number  of  new  plants  every  year.  We 
usually  try  to  grow  at  least  a  dozen  new  kinds  from  seed 
and  to  get  half  a  dozen  unfamiliar  plants  from  a  nursery. 
In  this  way  one  soon  makes  a  very  large  circle  of  ac- 
quaintances, many  of  which  become  permanent  friends. 
Sometimes  we  grow  all  the  kinds  of  Pinks  we  can  get 
hold  of,  sometimes  it  is  Campanulas,  and  this  year  we 
grew  a  number  of  Silenes  and  a  fine  collection  of 
Aubrietias. 

DIVISION 

All  herbaceous  plants  having  spreading,  fibrous  roots 
are  easily  propagated  by  division  done  either  in  early 
spring,  just  as  growth  is  starting,  or  in  September,  when 
growth  is  practically  accomplished.  Spring  flowering 


40  MY  GARDEN 

plants  are  best  divided  in  September,  but  summer  and 
fall  flowering  plants  may  be  done  at  either  season. 
Division  is  necessary  to  many  kinds  of  hardy  perennials, 
for  if  allowed  to  grow  into  large  clumps,  they  seem  to 
lose  vitality,  bloom  in  an  inferior  manner,  and  frequently 
winter  kill.  Most  plants  are  benefited  by  division  every 
year  after  they  are  three  years  old.  This  is  particularly 
true  of  such  lusty  growers  as  Boltonias,  Phlox,  Helen- 
iums,  Helianthus,  Pyrethrums,  Monarda,  Nepeta  Mus- 
sini,  Doronicums,  Rudbeckias,  Perennial  Asters,  Chrys- 
anthemums, Moonpenny  Daisies,  Achilleas,  Primroses, 
Anthemis,  Aconites,  and  Valeriana. 

Oriental  Poppies,  Baptisias,  Gypsophila  paniculata 
and  Anemone  Japonica,  do  not  require  such  frequent 
division,  while  Pseonies,  Fraxinella,  and  Statice  latifolia 
are  best  left  untouched  year  after  year  to  grow  in 
grace  and  beauty.  ;  Small  tufted  plants,  with  bunches  of 
fibrous  roots,  are  easily  pulled  apart  with  the  fingers, 
while  such  thick-rooted  subjects  as  Flag  Irises  are 
managed  with  a  sharp  knife  or  hatchet.  Plants  having 
roots  like  the  Phlox  and  Heleniums  may  be  simply  cut 
up  with  a  spade.  Old  clumps  may  be  cut  up  into  many 
promising  plants  that  will  far  outshine  the  old  ones  in 
perfection  of  bloom. 

CUTTINGS 

Propagating  plants  by  means  of  cuttings  is  not  so 
much  practised  by  the  amateur,  as  the  two  other 


THE  NURSERY  41 

methods  answer  nearly  every  purpose.  Roses,  however, 
are  best  increased  by  cuttings,  and  Pinks  are  easily 
multiplied  in  this  manner.  When  one  has  something 
particularly  nice  in  the  way  of  an  alpine  Pink,  or  some 
pretty  garden  variety,  it  is  best  not  to  trust  to  its  seed, 
for  Pinks  cross  so  easily  that  they  cannot  be  depended 
upon  to  come  true  to  type.  After  the  Pink  has  flowered 
and  new  growth  has  started,  take  a  nice  new  shoot  three 
or  four  inches  long  and  cut  it  off  just  below  the  point 
where  a  pair  of  leaves  clasps  the  stem — this  is  a  joint. 
These  two  leaves  should  be  removed  and  the  cutting  is 
then  ready  to  plant.  It  should  be  inserted  in  wet  sand 
which  must  never  be  allowed  to  dry  out,  and  the  cutting 
should  be  carefully  shaded  from  the  sun.  There  will  be 
roots  in  a  week  or  ten  days,  and  in  a  few  days  more  the 
little  plant  may  be  shifted  to  better  soil,  either  in  small 
pots,  a  frame,  or  in  a  spot  in  the  nursery,  not  fully  ex- 
posed to  the  sun. 

Plants  of  a  woody  character  take  longer  to  root,  thus, 
Rose  cuttings  will  be  from  four  to  five  weeks  putting 
forth  roots.  Rose  cuttings  may  be  taken  at  any  time  of 
the  growing  year,  but  for  amateurs  the  best  time  is  in 
summer,  when  a  young  shoot  has  developed  a  flower- 
bud  to  about  the  size  of  a  pea.  The  shoot  may  be 
several  inches  long  and  the  flower-bud  is,  of  course,  re- 
moved. Insert  in  damp  sand  in  the  same  manner  as 
Pinks.  Some  Roses  root  with  difficulty — the  lovely 
Moss  Roses  for  instance,  but  Teas  and  Chinas  and  many 


42  MY  GARDEN 

of  the  climbers  root  readily  enough.  Many  shrubs  may 
be  increased  in  this  same  way,  using  young  shoots,  but  it 
should  be  borne  in  mind  that  if  cuttings  wilt  from  lack 
of  water,  or  from  too  great  exposure  to  the  sun,  they 
seldom  revive. 

THE   TOOL-HOUSE 

A  well-stocked  tool-house  is  not  only  a  necessity  but 
a  great  pleasure.  We  do  not  need  a  great  many  imple- 
ments, but  those  we  do  have  should  be  in  good  order  and 
kept  in  a  dry  place,  easy  of  access.  The  tool-house  should 
be  fitted  with  shelves  and  a  work  bench,  and  I  find  a  com- 
fortable chair  is  not  to  be  despised.  Upon  the  shelves, 
hanging  on  the  walls,  or  otherwise  disposed  about  the 
little  room,  will  be  found : 

Two  25-foot  lengths  of  light  cotton-covered  hose;  two  wheel- 
barrows— one  large,  the  other  small  and  light;  one  spade,  one 
shovel,  two  rakes,  light  and  heavy;  two  hoes,  light  and  heavy;  turf 
cutter,  lawn  mower,  sickle,  grass  shears,  potato  fork,  pick,  one  broad 
trowel,  one  narrow  transplanting  trowel,  small  mason's  trowel, 
weeders,  one  long-nosed  and  one  short-nosed  watering  can,  powder 
and  spray  bellows,  one  heavy  broom,  heavy  and  light  pruning 
shears,  a  pair  of  large  scissors  and  a  sharp  knife,  dibble,  several 
sized  baskets,  a  garden  reel  with  balls  of  twine  and  raffia,  a  fine 
sieve,  plenty  of  green  stakes  varying  from  the  slender  one  and  a 
hah*  foot  ones  to  the  tall,  strong  Dahlia  stakes;  several  hundred 
wooden  labels  of  different  sizes,  and  indelible  pencils;  wall  hooks, 
brads  and  nails,  a  hammer  and  a  light  saw. 

Also  I  like  to  keep  several  pots  of  green  and  white  paint 
to  hand,  with  brushes  in  good  order  and  ready  for  use. 


THE  NURSERY  43 

Besides  these  tools,  the  tool-house  should  be  stocked 
with  a  few  insecticides  and  commercial  fertilizers,  so  that 
when  the  occasion  arises  the  proper  remedy  or  tonic  will 
be  at  hand  and  time  will  not  be  lost  in  procuring  it. 
Directions  for  use  come  with  the  packages.  The  ma- 
terial and  its  application  is  shown  here: 

Bordeaux  Mixture  (liquid) — for  fungous  diseases.      (One  gallon 

makes  a  barrel  of  liquid.) 

Bordeaux  Mixture  (dry) — for  mildew  and  fungous  diseases. 
Hellebore — all  sucking  insects. 
Kerosene  emulsion — plant  lice  and  aphis,  scale. 
Slug-shot — good  general  insecticide. 
Paris  green — for  "eating"  insects. 
Sulphur  (powdered) — for  mildew. 
Tobacco  Dust — for  aphis. 
Whale-oil  soap — good  wash  for  Roses. 
Lime-sulphur  solution — spray  for  flowering  fruit  trees. 
Bone  meal — splendid  food  for  Roses  and  other  plants. 
Wood  ashes. 

Nitrate  of  soda — good  tonic,  but  must  be  carefully  used. 
Sheep  manure — an  effective  and  easily  applied  dry  manure. 
Lime  (slaked) — for  sweetening  the  soil. 

A  "Day  Book,"  kept  in  connection  with  the  garden 
and  nursery,  will  be  found  an  invaluable  aid  to  memory. 
Mine  is  rather  a  stout  ledger,  in  which  is  kept  a  record  of 
all  plants  and  seeds  purchased  and  from  whom,  and  all 
expenses  connected  with  the  garden.  Note  is  made  of  all 
experiments  under  way,  of  all  new  flowers  under  obser- 
vation. Careful  note  is  made  of  changes  to  be  made  at  a 
convenient  season.  Memory  is  short  in  the  garden,  the 
beauty  of  one  season  blots  out  the  mistakes  of  the  last, 


44  MY  GARDEN 

and  one  may  easily  forget  the  pink  Sweet  William  grow- 
ing beside  the  flaming  Oriental  Poppies  and  discords  of 
a  like  nature,  if  one  does  not  "put  it  down."  It  is  easy 
to  see  possibilities  of  new  beauties  when  the  garden  is  in 
full  bloom,  but  very  difficult  when  it  is  bare  and  brown, 
or  when  one  has  only  a  paper  plan  to  go  by.  So  as  each 
season  comes  to  full  development  we  try  to  work  out  the 
improvements,  making  note  of  such  plants  as  mar  the 
general  effect,  as  well  as  those  that  we  feel  would  en- 
hance it,  or  create  some  especially  lovely  picture.  In 
this  book  also  may  be  found  a  careful  description  of 
every  growing  thing  in  the  garden,  derived,  not  from 
catalogues  or  books,  but  from  personal  observation  in 
our  own  garden — its  height,  colour,  habit  of  growth, 
time  and  length  of  blooming,  and  any  facts  concerning 
it  worthy  of  note.  All  this  is  most  invaluable  data,  con- 
stantly turned  to. 

Another  book,  which  we  call  the  "Country  Miscel- 
lany," is  kept,  and  is  probably  more  interesting  than  use- 
ful. It  is  the  repository  for  all  sorts  of  facts  and  fancies 
concerning  gardens,  plants,  and  country  matters  gen- 
erally. Old  recipes  for  home-made  remedies,  per- 
fumes, wines,  and  cordials;  local  superstitions  regarding 
plants  and  their  uses,  quotations  from  the  flower-loving 
poets,  accounts  of  gardens  visited,  quaint  flower  names 
and  much  more. 

Both  books  are  well  thumbed  and  smeared  with  soil; 
between  the  pages  lie  sprigs  of  Thyme  and  the  long, 


THE  NURSERY  45 

sweet  leaves  of  Costmary,  and  both  bear  witness  to 
being  in  constant  use.  They  are  the  records  of  many 
years  of  joyful,  health-giving  work,  and  each  year  adds 
to  their  value,  as  it  does  to  my  love  for  this  beautiful 
and  beloved  craft. 


CHAPTER  THREE 

THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  AND  THE  NEXT 

"There  is  a  faltering  crimson  by  the  wall, 
Now  on  a  vine,  and  now  on  brier  thinned. 
As  though  one  bearing  lantern  through  the  wind 
Here  hides  his  light,  but  yonder  lets  it  fall." 

— Lizzette  Woodford  Reese. 

WILL  any  one  gainsay  that  his  most  poignant 
gardening  emotions  are  experienced  in 
March?  What  other  month  can  arouse  such 
turbulent  feelings  within  us  as  March  with  her  smiling 
interludes  which  come  unexpectedly  out  of  the  cold  and 
fierce  storms  like  the  singing  melody  that  suddenly 
breaks  through  a  thunder  of  complicated  orchestration. 
The  sky  is  bluer  than  blue;  the  sun  is  warm  upon  our 
backs,  and  from  the  eaves  of  the  house  the  water  drips 
in  hilarious  chuckles;  the  voice  of  the  little  brook  near 
the  house,  which  we  call  "The  Singing  Water,"  is  un- 
loosed in  a  wild  medley  of  exuberant  sound,  and  sud- 
denly there  comes  the  piercing  call  of  the  Phoebe,  the 
most  arousing  bird  note  of  the  spring.  And  we  can  re- 
sist no  longer,  but  rush  recklessly  hatless  to  the  garden, 
feeling,  if  not  actually  repeating,  Lowell's  lines: 

"Every  clod  feels  a  stir  of  might, 
An  instinct  within  it  which  reaches  and  towers." 
46 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  47 

Such  days  must  cause  tremulous  heartbeats  beneath 
the  sodden  earth,  for  very  certain  it  is  that  if  this 
strange,  disturbing  something,  which  has  crept  into  the 
world  over  night,  pierces  my  fur  jacket  and  stirs  my 
hibernating  emotions,  so  much  more  surely  does  it  reach 
and  stir  those  sleeping  green  things  so  divinely  sensitive 
to  this  "elemental  tenderness."  The  morrow  may  find 
our  throbbing  senses  quieted  by  a  soft  cold  hand  of 
snow,  icicles  may  hang  fiercely  where  yesterday  sounded 
the  thrilling  drip,  and  winds  may  flourish  their  banners 
of  dun-coloured  cloud;  but  within  that  sunny  rift, 
between  two  storms,  the  baby  Spring  was  born  and 
straightway  we  and  the  waiting  world  capitulate  and 
owe  allegiance  to  none  other.  Down  to  the  garden  one 
goes,  eager  for  miracles,  and,  sure  enough,  a  fat  robin 
struts  the  walk,  a  song-sparrow  tilts  joyously  on  the 
Sweet  Brier  and  splits  his  little  spring-tuned  throat — 
and  lo !  in  a  sheltered  corner,  a  miracle  indeed,  for  what 
yesterday  was  snow,  to-day  is  tender  flowers,  pure  as  the 
snow,  but  boasting  a  tiny  spot  of  green  upon  each  cold 
white  inner  petal,  mute  assurance  of  the  Snowdrop's 
fealty  to  the  new  order,  else  should  we  not  mistake  her 
for  the  child  of  gray  old  winter?  Often  above  the 
Snowdrops  the  Naked  Jasmine  has  lighted  a  pale 
candle  or  two,  and  if  our  eyes  are  sharp,  doubtless  we 
shall  find  some  fat  little  bundles  of  Crocus  spears  heaved 
through  the  winter  blanket.  More  than  likely  the 
Crown  Imperials,  those  stout  but  easily  demoralized 


48  MY  GARDEN 

monarchs,  have  shot  a  reckless  three  inches  into  the  air, 
and  would  be  utterly  and  everlastingly  nipped  in  the  bud 
did  we  not  watch  the  weather  signs  and  bundle  them  up 
at  the  slightest  hint  of  a  "change." 

When  the  baby  Spring  is  old  enough  to  sit  up  and 
keep  an  eye  upon  her  domain,  the  time  has  come  to 
awaken  the  flowers,  and  I  always  do  it  myself,  for  I 
would  not  miss  for  anything  their  first  sleepy  greetings 
and  the  sight  of  their  tumbled  heads  as  we  turn  back  the 
brown  blanket  and  know  that  they  are  stretching  their 
cramped  limbs  and  drawing  long,  ecstatic  breaths  of  the 
wonderful,  winter-sweetened  air. 

Here  we  have  not  yet  acquired  Christmas  Roses  or 
Winter  Aconites,  so  the  Snowdrop  is  the  first  comer, 
though  often  accompanied  by  Crocus  Imperati  in  a 
south  border  and  closely  followed  by  the  brilliant  flowers 
of  7m  reticulata.  In  a  north  border,  where  the  sun 
reaches  them  for  part  of  the  day  only,  the  Snowdrops 
have  a  long  period  of  bloom,  and  are  often  on  hand  to 
gleam  shyly  with  the  corpulent  Dutch  Crocuses  and 
early  Daffodils.  But  in  the  more  sheltered  situations 
they  come  so  early  as  to  have  the  field  almost  to  them- 
selves. They  are  charming  grown  beneath  a  ground 
cover  of  English  Ivy  or  in  woodland  places  where  they 
pierce  and  shine  above  a  carpet  of  brown  leaves,  and  are 
most  effective  when  planted  in  large  numbers.  They 
will  do  well  almost  anywhere,  but  in  a  rather  moist, 
loamy  soil  and  partial  shade  they  increase  more  rapidly 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  49 

than  in  dry,  sunny  places.  Here  we  have  only  two  kinds : 
Galanthus  nivalis,  the  kind  ordinarily  planted,  and  the 
great  G.  Elwesii,  giant  of  the  family  and  much  taller  and 
more  substantial. 

Very  similar  to  Galanthus  is  Leucojum  vernum,  the 
Spring  Snowflake,  which  blooms  nearly  as  early  and 
sheds  a  fine  fragrance  from  its  drooping  green-tipped 
flowers.  It  grows  from  eight  to  ten  inches  tall  and 
loves  a  sandy  loam. 

The  first  Crocus  to  burst  bubble-like  from  the  earth 
behind  our  garden  walls  is  C.  Imperati,  a  wild  species  of 
great  charm,  wearing  without  the  tenderest  buff  colour, 
lightly  feathered  with  rosy  lavender,  while  within  is  pure 
lavender  against  which  the  orange  stigmata  show  hotly. 
They  grow  in  a  south  corner  beneath  some  bushes  and 
are  treasured,  for  they  bloom  always  when  I  am  most 
impatient  for  the  spring  and  stay  my  eagerness  as  the 
Snowdrops  never  do.  Despite  their  frail  appearance, 
they  will  stand  the  wind  and  rains  of  March  trium- 
phantly and  last  in  beauty  for  a  long  time.  Next  to  bloom 
here  is  C.  Susianus,  the  Cloth-of-gold  Crocus,  in  a  gold- 
lined  brown  jacket.  This  is  a  much  less  rare  and  elegant 
person  than  Imperati,  but  is  so  instinct  with  warmth 
and  life  that  I  adore  its  burning  trails  along  two  borders. 
Another  early-flowering  Crocus  is  the  Scotch,  C.  Biflorus, 
gleaming  white  lined  with  pale  purple.  Then  come  the 
great  splashes  of  colour  which  proclaim  the  Dutch 
Crocuses — valiant  purple  and  orange,  clean  lavender, 


50  MY  GARDEN 

gleaming  white,  and  the  pretty  striped  sorts  like  Madam 
Mina.  There  are  many  fine  sorts,  but  President  Lin- 
coln, a  rich  purple  of  fine  vaselike  form,  is  my  favourite. 
Crocuses  love  a  nice  sandy  loam  and  are  planted  in  Sep- 
tember and  October  about  three  inches  deep.  They 
may  be  left  to  themselves  until  they  show,  by  falling  off 
in  their  bloom,  that  they  are  overcrowded,  when  they 
may  be  dug  up  and  given  more  room. 

Three  dainty  blue-flowered  bulbs  belong  to  the  early 
spring:  Chionodoxa,  Muscari,  and  Scilla.  TheChiono- 
doxas  bloom  first  with  me — C.  Luciliae  and  sardensis — 
the  first,  bright  sky  blue  with  a  clear  white  centre;  the 
second,  of  that  rare  Gentian  blue  so  seldom  seen  in 
flowers.  Both  are  but  a  few  inches  high,  and  are  pretty 
planted  in  spreading  patches  about  the  drifts  of  snowy 
Arabis  in  bloom  at  the  same  time.  The  common  Grape 
Hyacinth,  Muscari  botryoides,  with  its  pretty  beaded 
blue  flower  spikes,  is  well  known  to  most  of  us,  and  also 
the  refined  white  variety.  But  there  are  others  too 
lovely  not  to  be  included  in  every  garden.  Of  those, 
Heavenly  Blue,  well  named,  is  the  best,  but  azureum, 
blooming  very  early,  is  most  attractive,  and  plumo- 
sum,  the  Feathered  Hyacinth,  more  mauve  than  blue. 
Muscari  moschatum,  also  leaning  to  lavender,  is  large  and 
fragrant  of  musk,  and  requires  a  warm,  dry  border.  The 
Muscaris  like  a  rich,  well-drained  soil  and  plenty  of  grit, 
and  should  be  planted  three  inches  deep  in  early  autumn. 
They  do  well  either  in  the  grass  or  in  the  beds  and  borders. 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  51 

The  contemplation  of  Scillas,  Squills,  or  Bluebells  is 
pleasant  indeed,  for  they  are  among  the  loveliest  of 
spring  flowers.  They  like  a  little  shade  and  so  for 
woody  places  are  ideal.  In  this  garden  we  grow  them 
beneath  the  flowering  trees  and  shrubs,  but  have  not 
nearly  enough.  There  is  S.  sibirica,  with  spikes  of 
bright  blue  flowers  three  inches  high,  and  S.  bifolia, 
blooming  a  little  earlier,  with  dainty  heads  of  azure 
flowers;  Sdlla  nutans,  the  English  Bluebell,  growing 
fourteen  inches  high  with  arching  stems  of  drooping 
bells,  and  S.  hispanica  (syn.  campanulatd) ,  almost  the 
loveliest  of  all,  with  erect  spikes  fifteen  inches  tall  carry- 
ing bells  of  various  colours — white,  lilac,  and  rose,  but 
none  so  satisfying  as  the  blue.  The  bulbs  of  Scillas 
should  be  planted  five  or  six  inches  deep,  and  they  will 
thrive  under  evergreen  trees  where  few  other  plants 
will  grow. 

Before  April  has  got  very  far  along  her  fairy  way  the 
great  Crown  Imperials  are  in  gorgeous  bloom.  This  is  a 
plant  of  old  times  but  is  so  truly  magnificent  and  vi- 
brant in  its  form  and  colouring  that  it  should  never  have 
gone  out  of  fashion.  Parkinson  calls  it  sonorously, 
Corona  Imperialis,  and  considered  it  a  Lily.  Thus  he 
writes:  "The  Crowne  Imperiall  for  his  stately  beauti- 
fulness,  deservith  the  first  place  in  this  our  Garden  of 
Delight,  to  be  here  entreated  before  all  other  Lillies." 
His  quaint  and  appreciative  description  of  this  flower 
that  he  so  greatly  admired  is  too  long  to  give  in  full,  and 


52  MY  GARDEN 

my  own  words  are  poor  and  cold  in  comparison,  though 
I  share  his  admiration.  The  great  nose  appears  above 
ground  at  the  very  first  hint  of  reassuring  weather  and 
attains,  hi  an  incredibly  short  time,  a  height  of  two 
and  one-half  to  three  feet.  At  the  top  is  a  triumphant 
tuft  of  greenery,  and  just  below  hangs  the  circular  crown 
of  bells — sometimes  two  crowns — this  kind  called 
Crown  upon  Crown;  sometimes  orange,  again  yellow  or 
scarlet,  but  always  imperial  and  striking.  It  is  Turkish 
and  looks  its  nationality.  One  fault  it  has,  but  I,  with 
Parkinson,  am  so  under  its  spell  that  we  make  light  of  it. 
He  says:  "The  whole  plant  and  every  part  thereof,  as 
well  rootes,  as  leaves  and  flowers,  does  smell  somewhat 
strong  as  it  were  the  savour  of  a  Foxe,  so  that  if  any  one 
does  but  come  near  it,  he  cannot  but  smell  it,  which 
yet  is  not  unwholesome."  I  am  not  familiar  with  the 
"savour  of  a  Foxe,"  but  this  splendid  plant  has  to  my 
nose  exactly  the  "savour"  of  a  skunk-cabbage,  and 
seems  to  permeate  the  world.  It  is  at  its  worst,  I  have 
observed,  when  it  first  appears  above  ground,  as  if  it 
were  just  "letting  it-self  go"  after  the  long  winter  con- 
finement; but,  as  Parkinson  says,  it  is  not  "unwhole- 
some." Ruskin  speaks  of  the  perfume  of  a  flower  as  its 
soul,  and  it  would  seem  a  worthy  task  for  some  patient 
missionary  hybridist  to  take  in  hand  the  terrible  soul  of 
Fritillaria  imperialis. 

A  rich   soil  is   generally   recommended  for   Crown 
Imperials,  and  I  have  found  that  the  bulbs  here  planted 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  53 

in  a  south  border,  where  the  soil  is  warm  and  dry,  are 
in  the  best  condition  and  have  increased.  Those  in  a 
north  border,  where  the  soil  is  heavy,  disappeared  after 
two  years.  The  bulb  should  be  planted  in  September, 
the  tops  five  inches  below  the  ground  and  the  bulb  laid 
upon  its  side  to  prevent  moisture  lodging  between  the 
scales.  It  will  require  a  year  to  become  established  be- 
fore it  does  anything  very  striking  in  the  way  of  a  dis- 
play. If  at  any  time  the  bulbs  must  be  moved,  the  best 
time  is  just  after  the  leaves  have  withered. 

Fritillaries  are  rather  numerous,  but  I  am  not  ac- 
quainted with  many.  Just  once  have  I  been  able  to 
flower  the  brilliant  red  F.  recurva,  though  I  have  planted 
it  several  times  under  flattering  conditions.  The  Snakes- 
head  Fritillary,  Guineahen  flower,  or  Checker  Lily,  as 
Parkinson  calls  it,  Fritillaria  Meleagris,  with  its  lovely 
white  variety,  alba,  may  and  should  be  had  by  every 
one.  In  moist,  partially  shaded  places,  the  curving 
bell-hung  stalk  grows  a  foot  high,  but  in  the  dryer 
soil  of  the  garden  it  is  not  so  tall.  There  are  new 
varieties,  Cassandra,  Orion,  and  Triton,  all  described  as 
most  attractive;  the  "Checkers"  on  their  gray  or 
silvery- white  ground  are  more  or  less  distinct.  The 
bulbs  should  be  planted  six  inches  deep  with  a  covering 
of  sharp  sand. 

When  one  comes  to  Daffodils,  it  is  difficult  to  write 
with  moderation  or  even  to  think  connectedly — one 
wants  to  go  into  ecstasies  and  to  run,  in  spirit,  from  one 


54  MY  GARDEN 

sunshiny  group  to  another  inhaling  the  ineffable  wet- 
earth-and-sun  perfume  which  is  their  birthright,  quite 
forgetting  to  tell  of  the  best  varieties  and  how  to  grow 
them.  When  down  in  the  garden  sweet  Daffodil 
"unties  her  yellow  bonnet,"  it  is  a  "time  o'  dreams" — 
Cherry  Blossoms  cast  their  pale  shadow;  Peach  trees 
fling  pink  spray  against  the  garden  wall;  Japanese 
Quince  makes  a  hot  splash  against  the  cold  stone.  Early 
Tulips  proudly  lead  one  up  and  down  the  garden  paths 
displaying  here  a  snowy  drift  of  Arabis,  there  a  purple 
trail  of  Aubrietia,  and  here  again  a  mound  of  green-gold 
Alyssum — and  disappear  beneath  the  scented  skirts  of 
the  flowering  Currant  or  march  in  prim,  upstanding 
array  in  the  shadow  of  a  scarlet-budded  Crabapple.  A 
thousand  delights  are  spread  before  us,  but  wonder  of 
wonders  is  that  nodding  horde  of  Daffodils,  all  up  and 
down  the  borders,  under  the  trees,  beside  the  paths, 
shining  with  the  sunshine,  gleaming  with  the  gentle 
rain,  restless  with  the  attentive  wind.  It  was  Mahamet 
who  said  more  than  a  thousand  years  ago,  "He  that 
hath  two  cakes  of  bread,  let  him  sell  one  of  them  and  buy 
Narcissus,  for  bread  is  food  for  the  body  but  Narcissus 
is  food  for  the  soul."  And  verily  it  is  true — food  for  the 
soul  and  delight  for  the  eyes,  these  gleaming  things  lying 
like  patches  of  light  among  the  fallen  Cherry  Blossoms, 
glorifying  the  brown  earth,  and  lifting  the  most  sodden 
into  a  rarer  atmosphere.  Daffodil  time  is  the  very  height 
of  spring,  the  epitome  of  springing  youth  and  hope. 


'WHEN   DOWN   IN   THE   GARDEN   SWEET   DAFFODIL   *  UNTIES   HER   BONNET,' 

IT  is  A  'TIME  o'  DREAMS'  " 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  55 

The  classification  of  the  Narcissus  family  is  rather 
confusing  to  me,  there  are  so  many  divisions  and  sub- 
divisions, but  it  is  not  necessary  to  be  very  well  grounded 
in  these  distinctions  to  know  and  grow  these  flowers. 
There  are  long  trumpets  and  short  trumpets,  large 
cups,  smaU  cups,  and  flat  cups,  double-flowered,  single- 
flowered,  and  cluster-flowered,  and  each  of  these  blossoms 
forth  into  such  an  astonishing  company,  all  lovely,  that 
one  is  bewitched  as  well  as  bewildered.  My  experience 
of  growing  Daffodils  is  as  yet  confined  to  the  garden — I 
have  not  tasted  the  joy  of  planting  them  by  the  thou- 
sand in  orchards  and  meadows.  Most  of  those  we  have 
tried  have  flourished  and  increased,  a  few  have  lan- 
guished; and  in  the  case  of  those  wee  things,  Angles 
Tears,  Queen  of  Spain,  Hoop-petticoat,  minimus  and 
nanus — fit  only  for  the  sequestered  safety  of  rockwork, 
but  which,  for  the  We  of  me,  I  cannot  help  trying  to 
cajole  into  border  life — I  meet  heart-sickening  failure. 
These  small  things  are  quite  hardy,  but  the  great  world 
of  the  open  garden  literally  frightens  them  out  of  their 
lives. 

The  soil  for  Daffodils  should  not  be  heavy  and  stiff, 
but  light,  rich,  and  porous.  Sand  and  wood  ashes  will 
do  much  toward  putting  a  heavy  soil  into  the  proper 
condition,  and  the  Rev.  Joseph  Jacob  in  his  helpful  book 
"Daffodils"  suggests  a  little  bone  meal  in  the  soil  be- 
low the  bulbs.  As  in  the  case  of  all  bulbs,  no  manure 
should  come  into  contact  with  them,  though  a  top  dress- 


56  MY  GARDEN 

ing  in  winter  is  both  beneficial  and  a  safeguard.  We 
plant  the  bulbs  from  four  to  six  inches  deep,  according 
to  size,  and  it  is  well  to  get  them  into  the  ground  as  early 
in  the  fall  as  they  can  be  procured.  If  blooming  well 
they  may  be  left  undistrubed  until  by  "falling  off" 
they  testify  to  being  overcrowded.  Then  they  may  be 
dug  up  in  spring,  when  the  leaves  have  yellowed  and  lie 
upon  the  ground,  dried  and  stored  in  open  paper  bags  or 
boxes  in  a  dry  place,  until  it  is  time  to  replant  them  in 
late  August  and  September. 

It  is  difficult  to  go  wrong  in  the  selection  of  these 
all-beautiful  flowers,  but  the  following  is  a  list  of 
moderate  priced  sorts,  which  are  doing  well  in  our 
garden: 

Of  the  Great  Yellow  Trumpets,  we  have  Emperor, 
Glory  of  Leiden,  Golden  Spur,  Henry  Irving,  Obvallaris, 
P.  R.  Barr,  and  maximus. 

Of  the  lovely  White  Trumpets,  we  have  Albicans, 
Madame  de  Graff,  Mrs.  Camm,  and  Moschatus  of 
Haworth,  the  fair  Daffodil  of  Spain.  All  these  white 
Trumpets  are  very  grateful  for  partial  shade. 

The  Bicolour  Trumpets  are  a  charming  race  with 
many  representatives.  Here  we  have  Empress,  Gran- 
dee, Horsfeildii,  J.  B.  M.  Camm,  Madame  Plemp, 
Oriana,  Wm.  Goldring. 

The  various  kinds  of  Chalice-Cupped  Daffodils,  or 
Star  Narcissi,  comprising  the  Incomparabilis,  Barrii,  and 
Leedsii  sections,  have  ever  been  to  me  the  loveliest  of 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  57 

these  lovely  flowers.  They  are  truly  starlike  and  seem 
to  shed  a  soft  radiance  about  them. 

Of  the  Incomparabilis  group  there  are  Beauty,  C.  J. 
Backhouse,  Cynosure,  Frank  Miles,  Lulworth,  Queen 
Bess,  Sir  Watkin,  Stella  Superba,  and  Will  Scarlet. 

Among  the  Barrii  group  are  Albatros,  Conspicuus, 
Falstaff ,  Oriflamme,  and  Seagull.  The  cups  of  these  are 
red  rimmed. 

The  Eucharis-flowered  or  Leedsii  group  are  softly 
coloured  and  delicately  fragrant.  Ariadne,  Duchess  of 
Westminster,  Katherine  Spurrell,  Mary  Magdelin  de 
Graff,  Minnie  Hume,  and  Mrs.  Langtry. 

Besides  these  we  must  have  the  little  Jonquils  or 
Rush-leaved  Narcissi,  with  several  bright  yellow,  sweetly 
scented  flowers  to  a  stalk.  Of  these,  N.  Jonquilla  and 
N.'  odorus  (or  campernella)  are  the  only  ones  we  have. 
The  bulbs  are  very  small  and  the  flower  stems  slender 
so  they  should  be  planted  with  a  generous  hand. 

The  glistening  white  circle  of  petals  and  scarlet  "eye" 
of  the  Poet's  Narcissus  is  well  known  and  beloved.  The 
old  Pheasant's  Eye  is  very  inexpensive  and  one  of  the 
best  bulbs  for  naturalizing,  but  of  late  years  some  very 
fine  varieties  of  this  type  have  been  given  to  the  world. 
Of  those,  some  of  the  less  expensive  are,  Almira,  Glory, 
Herrick,  Minerva. 

The  Poet's  Narcissus  is  one  parent  of  a  new  race 
called  Poetaz,  having  several  rather  thick-fleshed 
flowers  on  a  stem,  the  cups  of  which  are  orange  or  gold 


58  MY  GARDEN 

or  scarlet.  The  only  ones  we  have  are  Elvira,  Aspasia, 
and  Irene — but  there  are  a  number  of  others. 

Double  Daffodils  lack  something  of  the  sprightly 
grace  of  the  single  sorts,  but  the  fat  old  Van  Sion,  with 
its  rumpled  green-gold  petals,  is  ever  welcome,  and  there 
are  few  more  beautiful  flowers  at  any  season  than  the 
double  poeticus,  or  Gardenia-flowered.  It  is  important 
that  the  bulbs  of  this  sort  should  be  planted  early  in  a 
deep,  cool  soil,  not  too  dry.  Then  there  are  the  double 
Incomparabilis  Narcissi,  the  Sulphur  Phoenix  and 
Orange  Phoenix,  known  respectively  as  Codlins-and- 
Cream  and  Eggs-and-Bacon.  They  are  old  fashioned 
and  quaint  looking  with  crowded  petals  like  little  roses, 
and  are  very  fragrant  and  good  for  bouquets. 

Daffodils  are  particularly  charming  when  planted  be- 
neath the  many  flowering  trees  and  shrubs  in  bloom  at 
their  season.  The  light  shade  is  no  detriment  to  them, 
and  their  pale  gold  is  very  lovely  with  the  pinks  and 
whites  of  the  fruit  blossoms  especially. 

Many  bulbs  will  not  only  tolerate  but  are  benefited  by 
a  ground  cover  of  some  small  creeping  plant  which  is  so 
shallow-rooting  that  it  does  not  rob  the  soil  to  any  ex- 
tent, but  protects  the  bulb  from  the  fierce  rays  of  the 
summer  sun  and  the  flowers  from  the  splashing  mud 
in  the  rude  spring  storms.  This  is  true,  not  only  of  the 
larger  bulbs  such  as  Daffodils,  Tulips,  and  Crown  Im- 
perials, but  of  Grape  Hyacinths,  Scillas,  Snowdrops, 
and  other  small  things.  Some  of  the  "carpeters" 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  59 

which  we  have  found  most  satisfactory  are:  Veronica 
repens,  Gypsophila  repens,  Sedum  album,  Sedum  acre, 
Lotus  corniculatus,  Thymus  lanuginosus  and  Serpyllum, 
and  Cerastium  for  small  bulbs,  with  Aubrietia,  Arabis, 
Alyssum,  Arenaria  montana,  Tunica  saxifraga,  Sweet 
Woodruff  and  Stachys  lanata  for  the  larger  sorts. 

Besides  the  bulbs  and  flowering  trees  April  offers 
more  than  one  small  delight  to  weave  into  our  fairy 
pictures.  Earliest  of  these  is  the  snowy  Rock  Cress 
(Arabis  albida)  which  lies  in  little  drifts  in  sheltered 
places  and  opens  its  wide  fragrant  blossoms  in  the  early 
part  of  the  month.  The  foliage  is  gray,  and  after  the 
plants  are  out  of  bloom  they  are  still  pretty;  they  are 
wanderers,  sowing  their  seed  freely  and  appearing  in  all 
sorts  of  places.  It  loves  the  warm  angles  of  steps  or 
walls  or  a  chink  in  a  low  retaining  wall  where  it  hangs 
in  soft-coloured  festoons.  There  is  a  double-flowered 
Arabis,  a  thing  of  much  more  pride  and  circumstance 
than  the  single,  but  I  have  not  found  that  it  comes 
true  from  seed.  Beds  of  pink  and  white  Cottage  Maid 
Tulips  are  most  fresh  looking  and  springlike  carpeted 
with  Arabis. 

Among  the  very  prettiest  low-growing  plants  of  any 
season  are  the  Aubrietias,  which  form  little  mounds  of 
charming  colour,  the  pleasant,  dusty  foliage  almost 
hidden  by  the  crowding  blossoms,  lavender,  purple, 
rose,  and  crimson  in  many  shades.  Lavender  is  a  splen- 
did sort,  Dr.  Mules,  a  rich  purple;  Fire  King,  very 


60  MY  GARDEN 

striking  crimson;  Bridesmaid,  a  pale  and  lovely  thing, 
and  graeca,  one  of  the  older  sorts  but  a  fine  tender  laven- 
der. Besides  these  are  Lloyd  Edwards,  deep  purple; 
Wedding  Veil,  pale  mauve;  and  M.  J.  Stowe,  red-purple. 
They  are  easily  raised  from  seed  and  sometimes  bloom 
the  first  season.  A  large  bed  of  seedling,  M.  J.  Stowe  in 
the  nursery  last  year,  bloomed  from  August  until  late  in 
November.  I  find  that  Aubrietias  suffer  from  the 
drought  in  our  climate  and  need  to  be  planted  where 
they  will  have  a  deep,  cool  root-run,  also  that  they  ap- 
preciate a  little  lime  in  the  soil.  They  are  particularly 
nice  in  combination  with  stonework,  and  a  fine  mass  of 
them  here,  in  the  pure  lavender  and  purple  shades, 
tumbling  over  a  stone-edged  border,  backed  by  groups 
of  pale  Star  Narcissi  and  shadowed  by  a  Cherry  tree  in 
full  bloom,  creates  a  lovely  picture. 

Fine  subjects,  also,  for  the  April  gardens,  are  the 
various  varieties  of  Phlox  subulata.  They  have  close, 
dark,  rather  prickly  foliage,  and  at  this  season  are  so 
densely  starred  with  bloom  that  the  groundwork  of 
foliage  is  quite  lost  sight  of.  The  old  magenta  sort  is 
the  one  most  generally  seen.  About  here  the  sad  long 
and  short  mounds  in  the  forlorn  little  country  church- 
yards are  turned  literally  to  mounds  of  glory  in  April 
through  the  agency  of  this  kindly  all-covering  creeper. 
I  am  very  fond  of  it,  for  while  it  is  undoubtedly  of  the 
despised  colour,  it  is  lovely.  Behind  our  garden  walls  it 
is  most  happily  placed,  both  physically  and  spiritually, 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  61 

for  its  roots  find  a  cool  root-run  and  it  spreads  its  war- 
ring colour  over  cool  stones,  with  which  it  is  at  peace. 
Behind  it  rises  feathery  Artemisia  Stelleriana  and  long- 
stemmed  Poet's  Narcissi.  But  for  those  who  do  not  see 
magenta  in  its  true  light  there  are  plenty  of  other 
lovely  sorts,  and  best  of  all  is  that  named  G.  F.  Wilson, 
so  silvery  in  its  lavender  colouring  as  to  be  almost  gray. 
It  grows  at  the  top  of  a  low  retaining  wall,  over  which  it 
hangs  in  pale  coloured  mats,  well  set  off  by  the  clumps 
of  dwarf  purple  Iris  and  light  yellow  Tulips  at  the  wall 
top  that  come  into  bloom  before  the  Phlox  is  past.  Nel- 
soni  is  a  fine,  gleaming  white  sort,  and  others  are  Newry 
Seedling,  mauve;  The  Bride,  white  with  pink  eye;  Kath- 
leen, rosy  lilac,  and  Little  Dot,  white,  blue  eye. 

These  little  plants  are  not  at  all  set  in  their  ways,  and 
will  gladly  creep  between  stones  in  any  cranny  where 
they  can  secure  a  foothold,  or  they  will  lie  contentedly 
sunning  themselves  in  spreading  patches  along  the 
borders.  I  have  never  seen  seed  of  these  Phloxes 
offered,  but  one's  stock  is  easily  increased  by  pegging 
down  the  little  branches  with  a  wire  hairpin  imme- 
diately after  flowering  and  covering  the  pegged-down 
portion  with  sand,  which  must  be  kept  moist.  Roots 
will  quickly  form  and  the  new  plant  may  be  detached 
and  started  upon  a  career  of  its  own. 

Phlox  divaricata  is  an  upright  little  plant,  carrying  its 
wide,  metallic-blue  blossoms  on  stems  about  a  foot  high. 
It  looks  very  well  with  the  Daffodils,  Arabis,  and  early 


62  MY  GARDEN 

Tulips.  Improved  varieties  of  this  are  Laphami  and 
Perry's,  both  real  improvements  in  size  and  quality. 
There  is  also  a  white  sort.  These  plants  do  well  in 
partial  shade  as  well  as  in  sun  and  in  shadowy  places. 
The  fragrant  flowers  last  longer  and  shine  with  added 
lustre. 

In  this  garden  hardy  Candytuft,  Iberis  sempervirens, 
and  the  golden  Alyssum — Alyssum  saxatile,  var.  com- 
pactum,  seem  to  seek  each  other's  company.  Whether 
the  seeds  are  so  planted  or  not,  the  winds  and  birds 
arrange  their  meetings  and  soon  the  little  colonies  of 
cold  yellow  and  cold  white  are  accomplished  and  very 
pleasant  to  look  upon.  The  Candytuft  is  a  handsome 
plant  with  dark,  almost  evergreen,  foliage  and  broad 
heads  of  dead- white  flowers.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
valuable  plants  for  the  front  of  the  border  and  makes  a 
fine  foreground  for  masses  of  orange- scarlet  Tulips. 
There  is  a  dwarf er  form  called  Little  Gem,  which  is  also 
useful.  Iberis  gibraltarica  is  a  lovely  thing,  with  spread- 
ing flower  heads,  white  faintly  suggestive  of  mauve,  but 
it  is  not,  sadly  enough,  to  be  counted  upon  in  severe 
winters.  Sometimes  in  winter  the  leaves  of  semper vir- 
ens  are  badly  browned,  in  which  case  it  is  best  to  cut  the 
plants  hard  back. 

The  golden  Alyssum  wears  rather  a  raw  shade  of 
yellow,  but  orange  Tulips  and  white  flowers  improve  it, 
and  it  is  so  gay  and  willing  that  one  likes  to  take  a  bit  of 
trouble  to  bring  it  into  harmony  with  its  surroundings. 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  63 

It  forms  nice  little  bushes  about  eight  inches  high,  gray- 
leaved  and  soft,  and  it  loves  a  full  exposure  to  the  sun. 
Like  all  these  spreading,  low-growing  plants,  it  enjoys 
growing  over  stones  and  is  never  so  happy  or  effective 
as  when  hanging  over  a  sunny  wall  surface.  There  is  a 
variety  of  compactum  called  citrinum,  a  little  softer  in 
colour. 

A.  montanum  is  a  pretty  yellow-flowered  Alyssum 
with  prostrate  stems.  A.  rostratum  and  A.  argenteum, 
forming  hoary  little  bushes  covered  with  tarnished 
yellow  flower  heads,  are  both  worthy  of  a  place  and 
quite  different  from  the  others  in  appearance. 

Before  April  is  past  shy  Primroses  are  showing  in 
shadowy  places  about  the  garden.  Here  we  have  only 
the  yellow,  sweet-scented  English  Primrose  and  the  gay 
brown  and  yellow  Polyanthus.  We  grow  them  under 
the  flowering  trees  and  shrubs,  and  protect  them  in  win- 
ter. They  love  a  cool,  deep  soil,  and  should  be  divided 
yearly  just  after  they  have  flowered. 

We  cannot  leave  April  without  mention  of  the  early 
Tulips,  after  the  Daffodils,  her  most  charming  decora- 
tion. The  earliest  to  bloom  here  is  Tulipa  Kaufmann- 
iana,  a  beautiful  species  from  Central  Asia,  sometimes 
called  the  Water-lily  Tulip,  with  petals  of  delicate  cream 
colour  swept  by  flames  of  carmine  on  the  exterior.  T. 
K.  var  aurea  is  yellow  with  carmine  flashes  and  var. 
coctinea,  from  Turkestan,  is  scarlet  with  a  yellow  base. 
Kaufmanniana  is  usually  in  bloom  by  the  middle  of  the 


64  MY  GARDEN 

month  and  is  a  matter  of  great  pride  and  enjoyment  to 
us,  for  it  is  rather  rare  in  American  gardens,  and  truly 
exquisite. 

What  are  known  in  the  catalogues  as  "earlies"  are 
hybrids  developed  from  some  natural  species.  Many 
of  them  are  sweet  scented  and  they  have  a  thin,  almost 
transparent,  quality  to  their  petals  lacking  in  the  more 
robust  Tulips  of  May.  I  love  to  plant  them  in  stiff 
rows  along  the  edges  of  the  borders,  for  somehow  their 
short  stems  and  stiffly  quaint  air  seems  not  suitable  for 
planting  in  friendly  groups,  or  in  careless,  broadcast 
fashion. 

Special  favourites  are  Chrysolora,  clear  yellow 
rounded  flower.  Yellow  Prince,  finely  scented.  Thomas 
Moore,  splendid  red-orange.  Prince  of  Orange,  orange- 
scarlet,  scented.  Cottage  Maid,  dainty  pink  and  white. 
Le  Reve,  soft  rose.  Pink  Beauty,  cherry  with  white 
lines.  Princess  Helen,  white.  Flamingo,  white-edged 
rose.  Coleur  Cardinal,  rich,  deep  red.  Brunehilde, 
white  with  yellow  flashes.  Wouverman,  rich,  reddish 
purple.  White  Swan,  pure  white,  vase-shaped,  blooms  a 
little  later. 

Belonging  to  the  "earlies"  are  some  double  sorts  well 
worth  having,  though  they  are  rather  heavy-headed  and 
in  wet  weather  are  apt  to  get  badly  splashed  with  mud. 
We  grow  them  in  some  eight-inch  borders  under  the  long 
grape  arbours  in  the  kitchen  garden  where  the  paths  are 
of  grass,  so  that  when  beaten  down  they  rest  upon  the 


THE  DAY  BEFORE  SPRING  65 

clean  grass.  We  have  not  many  sorts,  but  my  favour- 
ite is  Murillo,  a  lovely  blush  pink.  Fine,  too,  and  like  a 
white  Pseony  is  Schoonoord  which  means  "The  Beau- 
tiful North."  Safrano  is  a  pretty,  delicate,  salmon- 
coloured  flower,  and  Tournesol,  a  flashing  red  and  yel- 
low. 


CHAPTER    FOUR 

MAY   IN   THE   GARDEN 

"  In  the  quiet  garden  world 
Gold  sunlight  and  shadow  leaves 
Flicker  on  the  garden  wall." 

— Sappho. 

THE  wraithlike  beauty  of  April  lingers  into 
May,  but  her  step  is  more  reliant,  her  slender 
limbs  green  draped,  her  colour  slightly  deepened. 
These  are  long  golden  days,  mist-bathed  at  their  ris- 
ing and  full  of  expectation.  Foliage  like  a  green  veil 
swathes  the  trees;  orchards  are  billowy  with  bloom,  and 
unnumbered  birds  sing  their  thrilling  songs  and  joyously 
prepare  for  the  sure  realization  of  their  dreams. 

Down  in  the  garden  a  sense  of  breathless  expectation 
is  felt,  so  much  is  about  to  happen,  so  many  mysteries 
about  to  unfold,  and  hundreds  of  plants,  awaiting  a  sign 
that  they  shall  recognize,  hold  their  buds  closed  seem- 
ingly by  main  force.  Each  hour  of  the  day  sets  free 
some  lovely  thing;  the  sun's  persuasive  powers  are 
strengthening  and  enticing  showers  fall  often,  coaxing 
the  most  timid  and  backward  of  the  garden's  children 
into  haste. 

It  is  a  time  of  flourishing  well-being.     Whatever 

66 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  67 

dwindling  and  pining  the  plants  may  have  in  store  for 
us,  does  not  yet  appear,  and  it  is  a  delight  to  walk  about 
the  garden  observing  the  vigorous,  long-leaved  tufts  of 
Mulleins  and  Foxgloves,  the  capable  appearance  of 
Phlox  and  Sweet  William,  and  the  fine  show  of  determi- 
nation exhibited  by  the  lusty  clumps  of  Heleniums, 
Oriental  Poppies,  Lupines,  Columbines,  Rudbeckias, 
Helianthus,  and  other  old  settlers.  Pinks  are  reaching 
out  in  their  gray  young  growth,  the  aristocratic  noses  of 
Lilies  here  and  there  pierce  the  moist,  brown  earth,  and 
besides  all  this  promise  there  is  a  delicious  realization  of 
blossoming  boughs  and  bulbs  and  plants,  for  April's 
Daffodils  and  many  gifts  of  her  later  days  have  not 
gone,  and  May  Tulips  have  come  bringing  in  their  train 
a  beauteous  throng. 

Assuredly  the  Tulip  is  Queen  of  the  early  May  gar- 
den. In  April  she  was  not  quite  strong  enough  to  hold 
her  own  against  gay  Daffodil,  and  before  June  comes  in 
she  must  bow  to  a  more  powerful  potentate,  but  now  she 
is  supreme.  There  is  such  a  host  of  fine  May  Tulips 
that  the  difficulty  is  to  reconcile  one's  desires  to  the  size 
of  one's  garden,  or  to  the  stretch  of  one's  pocketbook. 
The  great  mass  of  these  are  known  as  Cottage  Tulips 
and  Darwins,  but  before  we  lose  ourselves  in  their  be- 
wildering midst  I  want  to  call  attention  to  two  wild 
species  which  we  grow  here  with  ever-increasing  enjoy- 
ment. The  first  to  bloom  is  Tulipa  sylvestris,  which 
grows  thickly  beneath  and  all  around  a  group  of 


68  MY  GARDEN 

Scotch  Briers  in  a  warm  south  border.  The  first  year  it 
does  no  more  than  send  up  two  slender  leaves  and  we  are 
disappointed,  but  the  second  year  and  thereafter  a 
slender,  curving  stem  rises  from  between  the  clasping 
leaves  carrying  a  long,  bronze-coloured  bud  which  opens 
widely  into  a  small  butter-yellow  flower  with  the  scent 
of  hothouse  violets.  It  is  a  sweet  thing,  with  the  shy 
grace  common  to  most  wild  things,  and  should  be 
planted  where  it  may  dwell  and  increase  in  peace,  not 
pressed  upon  by  stout  perennials  against  which  it  is  too 
frail  to  hold  its  own. 

The  other  wilding  which  has  accepted  our  garden 
graciously  is  the  Lady  Tulip,  Tulipa  Clusiana,  native 
of  Europe,  a  spirited,  upstanding  mite  with  a  flashing 
white,  carmine-feathered  cup  carried  on  a  short,  stiff 
stem.  It  has  been  known  in  gardens  for  more  than  three 
hundred  years,  for  Gerarde  speaks  of  it,  but  it  demands 
the  special  conditions  of  a  well-drained  soil  and  a  warm 
sheltered  spot,  or  it  will  not  stay.  A  cushion  and  cover- 
ing of  sharp  sand  greatly  increase  the  comfort  of  the 
small  bulbs. 

The  slender,  crimson-flowered  Tulipa  Didieri  and  its 
white  variety  are  also  wild  species,  but  have  so  much 
the  look  of  the  Cottage  varieties  that  it  hardly  seems 
necessary  to  treat  them  separately. 

Tulipa  retroflexa,  though  said  to  be  of  garden  origin 
and  grouped  in  bulb  lists  with  the  Cottage  Tulips,  is  so 
distinct  as  to  deserve  personal  notice.  The  uninitiated 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  69 

who  see  this  Tulip  usually  call  it  a  Lily,  and  the  mistake 
is  not  surprising,  for  the  deeply  reflexing  petals  are  mis- 
leading. The  colour  is  a  warm,  pure  yellow  and  the 
flower  is  carried  on  a  long,  curving  stem.  I  like  this 
Tulip  better  than  any  other  for  house  decoration. 

Tulips  known  as  May  or  Cottage  Tulips  are  mainly 
descendants  of  varieties  found  in  the  latter  part  of  the 
last  century,  in  old  gardens  of  the  British  Isles,  also  in 
France,  Holland,  and  a  few  in  America.  They  are  to 
me  more  beautiful  than  the  resplendent  Darwins,  for  the 
blossoms  are  long  and  pointed,  vase-shaped,  or  deli- 
cately oval,  and  all  have  an  indisputable  air  of  breeding 
and  distinction  not  always  felt  in  the  Darwins,  which 
seem  to  belong  to  a  lower  order  with  their  thicker  flesh 
and  more  squat  forms. 

The  Darwins  were  introduced  from  Holland  at  the 
beginning  of  this  century.  Dame  Nature,  and  Messrs. 
Krelage  of  Haarlem,  working  in  sympathetic  collabora- 
tion, have  wrought  in  them  the  most  marvellous  shades 
and  tints.  The  stems  are  tall  and  strong,  the  blossoms 
usually  cup-shaped,  and  nearly  all  are  enriched  by  a  con- 
spicuous blue  base  and  dark  anthers. 

In  soil  not  too  rich  and  heavy  Cottage  and  Darwin 
Tulips  may  be  left  in  the  ground  the  year  round  and 
lifted  only  when  they  show  by  lessening  quality  that 
they  are  overcrowded.  They  appreciate  deep  planting 
— ten  inches  is  not  too  deep — and  a  sand  cushion,  and 
no  manure  should  touch  the  bulbs.  Almost  every  im- 


70  MY  GARDEN 

aginable  colour-tone  is  shown  in  these  May-flowering 
Tulips,  and  so  it  behooves  us  to  be  a  little  careful  in  our 
selection  and  disposal  of  them,  that  one  lovely  thing 
may  not  "kill"  another.  There  are  no  yellows  among 
the  Darwins,  but  to  offset  this  they  have  a  wide  range 
of  mauves,  lavenders,  and  purples,  and  both  Cottage  and 
Darwins  are  rich  in  shades  of  scarlet,  cherry,  pink, 
salmon,  and  blush.  We  love  to  plant  these  Tulips  in 
groups  and  patches  about  the  borders  as  we  do  the 
Daffodils,  associating  them  with  the  many  fine  plants 
and  shrubs  blossoming  at  this  season.  The  May  Irises, 
florentina,  Germanica,  and  Intermediate  are  fine  used 
with  these  tall  Tulips,  also  the  soft  gray-foliaged  plants, 
and  charming  pictures  may  be  contrived  with  the 
flowering  trees.  Many  smaller  things,  such  as  blue  or 
white  Flax,  Nepeta  Mussini,  and  Dicentra  eximea  are 
lovely  grown  among  the  Tulips,  and  there  are  a  host 
of  creeping  things  to  carpet  the  ground  over  the 
bulbs. 

Here,  in  a  border,  the  background  of  which  is  created 
by  purple-leaved  Plums  and  pink  and  white  Flowering 
Almonds,  we  grow  the  dark  red  and  cherry-coloured 
Tulips  with  fine  effect.  They  are  Pride  of  Haarlem, 
Nauticus,  The  Sultan,  Anthony  Roozen,  Glow,  Faust, 
Baronne  de  la  Tonnaye,  Flambeau,  Black  Knight,  Zulu, 
Whistler,  Europe,  and  Mr.  Farncombe  Sanders — all 
Darwins.  The  mauve  and  purple  Darwins  are  par- 
ticularly artistic,  and  I  should  like  some  day  to  make  a 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  71 

border  with  a  background  of  white  Persian  Lilacs  and 
the  spreading  Judas  Tree,  where,  in  association  with 
much  gray  foliage  of  Lyme  Grass,  Artemisia,  Nepeta, 
Lavender  Cotton  and  Woolly  Stachys,  and  clumps  of 
gray-white  Florentine  Iris,  the  following  lovely  Tulips 
would  be  charmingly  shown:  Nora  Ware,  Kate  Greena- 
way,  Dream,  Bleu  aimable,  Rev.  H.  Ewbank,  Electra, 
Euterpe  and  Erguste,  with  such  dark  kinds  as  The 
Bishop,  Grand  Monarque,  and  Leonardo  da  Vinci  here 
and  there  for  accent. 

Such  gorgeous  orange  Cottage  Tulips  as  La  Merveille, 
Orange  King,  or  Orange  Beauty  are  effective  grouped 
with  the  spraylike  growth  of  sky-blue  or  white  Flax, 
with  a  background  of  Bridal-wreath,  or  some  other 
white-flowered  shrub.  Very  lovely,  too,  is  a  pretty  pink 
Darwin  Tulip  Gretchen,  planted  in  groups  with  Floren- 
tine Iris  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  scarlet-budded 
Crab,  Pyrus  floribunda.  Other  good  associations,  before 
me  as  I  write,  are  pale  yellow  Tulip  Ellen  Willmott  with 
Nepeta  Mussini,  creamy  Leghorn  Bonnet  with  gray 
Stachys,  and  tufts  of  lavender  Phlox  divaricata.  The 
lovely  pink  and  white  Tulip  Carnation,  with  hoary 
Southernwood  and  white  Tulip  Innocence,  with  tufts  of 
mauve  Aubrietia  in  front  of  a  bush  of  yellow  Kerria. 
Other  good  Cottage  Tulips  are  Bouton  d'Or,  golden 
yellow;  Gesneriana  spathulata,  ruby-scarlet,  Ingles- 
comb  Pink,  salmon;  John  Ruskin,  apricot-pink;  macro- 
spila,  vibrant  scarlet;  Miss  Jekyll,  white  with  blue 


72  MY  GARDEN 

base;  Moonlight,  primrose;  Mrs.  Moon,  bright  yellow; 
Oriana,  ruby-pink;  Picotee,  white  with  pink  edges;  The 
Fawn,  rosy-fawn,  and  vitellina,  cream. 

Besides  the  Tulips  and  Irises  the  first  two  weeks  of 
May  bring  a  number  of  good  perennials  to  grace  the 
garden.  The  old  Bleeding-heart  (Dicentra  syn.  Dielytra 
spectabilis),  whose  blossoms  look  like  some  old-fashioned 
confection,  comes  before  the  Daffodils  are  past  and 
associates  charmingly  with  some  of  the  pale  star  varie- 
ties. Few  old  gardens  are  without  a  spreading  clump  of 
this  old-fashioned  perennial,  and  new  gardens  should  not 
be  without  it,  for  even  without  the  wandlike  stems 
laden  with  dangling  pink  candy  hearts,  its  beautiful 
foliage  should  win  it  a  place  in  every  gathering  of  choice 
plants.  Like  Pseonies  and  Fraxinella  it  likes  to  be  left 
in  peace  year  after  year,  without  division,  or  other 
kindly  meddling.  Its  dwarf er  relatives,  Dicentra  eximea 
and  formosa,  with  blossoms  of  a  deeper  colour  lasting 
the  greater  part  of  the  summer,  should  bear  it  company, 
and  even  that  tiny  elfin  Dutchman's  Breeches,  of  our 
own  woods,  D.  Cucullaria,  so  fetching  in  its  creamy 
"breeches"  and  feathery  green,  is  worthy  a  bit  of  space 
in  some  shadowy  corner. 

Another  old  friend  is  blossoming  in  these  early  days 
of  May  and  is  too  often  passed  by  nowadays  for  more 
striking  novelties.  This  is  Honesty  (Lunaria  biennis),  a 
plant  of  many  names,  showing  that  many  have  cared  for 
it  as  it  travelled  down  through  the  ages;  and  so  hung 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  73 

about  with  traditions  of  magic  that  we  quite  stand  in 
awe  of  the  simple  plant. 

"  Enchanting  Lunarie  here  lies, 
In  sorceries  excelling." 

It  is  a  pretty  thing  growing  about  eighteen  inches  tall, 
with  large  dusty -looking  leaves  and  flowers  of  shining 
white,  or  various  shades  of  purple.  It  is  biennial,  but 
self-sows,  so  may  be  kept  in  the  garden  with  little 
trouble.  In  our  garden  two  other  old-fashioned  plants 
grow  with  it  and  form  a  friendly  group:  white  Spiderwort, 
with  its  strange  three-cornered  blossoms,  and  Jacob's 
Ladder,  with  spikes  of  light  blue-lavender  flowers. 
Maeterlinck  spoke  of  such  plants  as  these  as  having  "a 
long  human  past  behind  them,  a  large  array  of  kind  and 
consoling  actions;  those  which  have  lived  with  us  for 
hundreds  of  years  and  which  form  part  of  ourselves  since 
they  reflect  something  of  their  grace  and  their  joy  of  life 
in  the  soul  of  our  ancestors." 

Belonging  also  to  this  old-fashioned  company,  but 
blooming  later  in  the  month,  are  Sweet  Rocket  and 
Garden  Heliotrope.  The  first,  Hesperis  matronalis,  has 
starlike  flowers,  white,  or  in  shades  of  pale  purple 
and  violet,  and  gives  forth  to  the  night  a  most  delicious 
fragrance  which  it  quite  withholds  from  the  day.  Per- 
haps it  is  a  bit  too  free  a  seeder  to  be  admitted  to  very 
choice  gardens,  but  treated  as  bienniels,  the  old  plants, 
which  grow  lax  and  straggling,  pulled  out  and  thrown 


74  MY  GARDEN 

away  and  only  a  few  of  the  many  seedlings  retained, 
it  may  be  enjoyed  with  safety.  Garden  Heliotrope 
(Valeriana  officinalis)  is  a  special  favourite.  It  bears  a 
flat  head  of  pinkish  lacelike  bloom  at  the  end  of  its  four 
feet  of  slender  stem  and  has  the  delicious  fragrance  of 
real  Heliotrope.  It  is  so  old-fashioned  and  out  of  fash- 
ion that  it  is  not  always  easy  to  procure,  but  when 
one  has  it,  it  spreads  so  generously  that  one  may  pass  it 
along  to  others  who  are  less  fortunate,  and  it  is  well  worth 
having,  for  it  lends  a  light  grace  to  whatever  part  of  the 
garden  it  occupies  and  combines  charmingly  with  the 
other  flowers  of  its  day,  especially  with  Iris  Blue  King 
and  the  flaunting  Oriental  Poppies. 

Yellow  is  well  represented  in  early  May,  for  besides 
the  still  lingering  Daffodils,  Alyssum,  and  Tulips,  we 
have  the  two  fine  perennials,  Leopard's  Bane  (Doroni- 
cum),  and  the  Globe  Flower  (Trollius),  each  with  several 
good  varieties.  The  best  and  tallest  of  the  Doroni- 
cums  is  D.  plantagineum  var.  excelsum,  which  bears  its 
large  daisylike  flowers  on  stems  three  feet  high.  D. 
Clusii  and  D.  austriacum  are  also  good  sorts  about  a  foot 
and  a  half  high.  These  plants  will  do  well  in  a  poor  dry 
soil,  but  respond  to  better  living,  and  they  require  yearly 
division.  Doronicums  should  be  kept  out  of  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  Daffodils  and  Tulips,  as  there  is  too  much 
green  in  the  yellow  of  their  flowers,  but  planted  with 
white  Flax  and  such  strong  purple  Irises  as  King  or 
Kochi,  they  are  well  placed.  The  Globe  Flowers  are  not 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  75 

so  amiable  and  unless  one  can  give  them  a  very  rich, 
deep  soil,  or  dampness,  it  is  best  not  to  try  them.  If 
comfortable,  they  grow  into  stout  clumps  of  nicely  cut 
foliage,  gayly  ornamented  with  double  flowers — deep 
cream,  yellow,  or  orange-scarlet. 

Blue  and  white  Flax  flowers  are  everywhere  just 
now  and  are  always  captivating  in  their  light  spraylike 
growth.  They  occupy  little  space,  sowing  their  seeds 
about  and  gaining  a  footing  in  the  chinks  of  walls  and 
steps,  along  the  edges  of  the  paths,  and  anywhere  in  the 
borders.  One  border  has  its  stone  edging  buried  be- 
neath a  cloak  of  gray  Cerastium,  Gypsophila  repens,  and 
blue  Veronica  prostrata,  with  groups  of  Flax  alternating 
along  its  whole  length  with  long-stemmed  pink  Thrift 
(Armenia  latifolia).  In  another  border  pink  Tulips  rise 
delightfully  from  a  mass  of  sky-blue  Flax,  and  in  still 
another  it  has  appointed  itself  a  background  for  deep- 
purple  Campanula  glomerata.  The  Narbon  Flax  (Linum 
narbonense)  is  perhaps  a  more  skylike  blue  than  the 
more  familiar  L.  perenne,  but  is  not  so  hardy.  Both 
bloom  all  summer  if  seeding  is  not  allowed.  Linum 
flavum  is  a  beautiful  plant,  more  robust  in  appearance, 
but  less  so  in  reality  than  perenne,  with  rich  yellow 
flowers  and  nice  grayish  foliage.  It  has  never  been 
very  happy  with  me,  disappearing  or  sulking  in  a  most 
annoying  manner,  but  last  fall  I  discovered  that  my 
rather  weak-looking  plants  had  begun  to  seed  themselves 
and  had  started  quite  a  thriving  colony  in  the  path, 


76  MY  GARDEN 

which  I  take  as  a  sign  that  the  misunderstanding  be- 
tween this  lovely  Flax  and  me  is  a  thing  of  the  past. 

In  the  cold  frame  we  have  some  thriving  seedlings  of 
the  Alpine  Flax  (Linum  alpinum) ,  but  cannot  yet  speak 
authoritatively  of  it,  save  that  it  comes  easily  from  seed. 

Another  blue-flowered  plant,  but  one  much  stouter 
and  more  prosaic  than  the  winsome  Flax,  is  Centaurea 
montana,  perennial  relative  and  rather  heavy  prototype 
of  the  pretty  annual  Corn  Flower,  or  Blue-bottle.  It  is 
a  good  plant  of  medium  height,  sturdy  of  growth,  with 
nice  gray  foliage  and  a  long  period  of  bloom  if  not  al- 
lowed to  seed.  Yearly  division  keeps  the  plants  com- 
pact and  it  does  well  in  any  sunny  situation.  C. 
ruthenica  and  macrocephala  are  yellow-flowered  Cen- 
taureas,  growing  about  four  feet  high  and  blooming  in 
mid-summer.  They  are  rather  coarse  in  growth,  but 
are  worth  having.  The  former  is  the  better. 

Incomplete  indeed  would  be  the  spring  without  the 
Columbines,  and  so  we  have  a  great  many  within  our 
garden  enclosure,  of  all  colours  and  kinds,  with  short  or 
long  spurs,  with  enchanting  white  petticoats,  and  with 
none.  I  like  best  the  long  spurred,  single  sorts  in  clear, 
opaque  colours — sky-blue,  purple,  pure  white  or  yellow. 
Aquilegia  chrysantha,  a  fine,  long-spurred  yellow  sort, 
blooms  later  than  the  others  and  continues  through  the 
greater  part  of  the  summer.  A.  coerulea,  the  Rocky 
Mountain  Columbine,  is  an  exquisite  variety,  with  sky- 
blue  and  white  flowers.  It  has  a  lovely  white  form 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  77 

called  candidissima.  There  are  some  fine  pink  sorts 
of  garden  origin  and  various  other  hybrids  in  cream, 
lavender,  and  purple  shades.  Columbines  require  a 
background  of  green  or  stonework  to  be  seen  at  theb' 
best,  and  gleam  more  charmingly  in  shadowy  places 
than  in  full  sun.  They  naturalize  well  in  rocky  wooded 
places,  and  indeed  seem  more  at  home  in  such  a  situation, 
for  they  always  appear  more  wild  than  garden-bred  to 
me. 

Scarlet  Geums  have  been  very  gay  in  the  borders 
these  two  weeks  past.  They  sound  a  piercing  colour 
note  and  are  gay  and  pretty  in  association  with  white 
Flax  and  lavender  Phlox  divaricata.  There  are  several 
fine  sorts.  G.  Heldreichii,  bright  orange,  growing  a  foot 
tall,  and  its  variety  magnificum — a  good  deal  taller; 
G.  minatum  var.  aurantiacum,  strong  yellow  and  of  a 
more  compact  growth,  and  the  two  fine  double  sorts 
growing  nearly  two  feet  high,  G.  coccineum,  vars.  Mrs. 
Bradshaw,  and  Glory  of  Stuttgart. 

There  are  many  minor  delights  belonging  to  the  first 
two  weeks  of  May  besides  those  which  fell  from  April's 
lap  and  still  linger.  The  Cerastiums  trail  their  soft 
gray  foliage  over  the  stone  edgings,  Saponaria  ocymoides, 
decorous  cousin  of  disreputable  Bouncing  Bet  of  the 
dusty  roadsides,  tumbles  over  the  stones  in  delectable 
pink  cascades,  sky-blue  Polemonium  reptans  and  rosy 
Thrifts  gaily  tuft  the  edges  of  the  borders,  and  Lily  of 
the  Valley,  Periwinkle,  and  the  lacy  growth  of  Sweet 


78  MY  GARDEN 

Woodruff  (Asperula  odorata)  shine  in  JJie  shaded  cor- 
ners. 

The  last  two  weeks  of  May  have  much  the  look  of 
June.  The  spring  aspect  has  gone;  delicate  flower  tints, 
the  reddish  shoots  and  tender  young  green  are  replaced 
by  stronger  colours  and  lush  foliage — these  are  the  days 
of  fulfilment,  not  of  promise.  The  borders  are  full  and 
very  gay,  and  everywhere  are  charming  groups.  The 
noble  tribe  of  Hemerocallis  has  appeared  upon  the 
scene  in  all  its  burnished  beauty.  My  little  boy  calls 
them  "brass  and  copper  lilies,"  which  is  most  apt,  and 
bronze  might  be  added,  for  the  outsides  of  some,  like 
H .  Dumortierii,  are  distinctly  bronze  in  colour.  H.  gra- 
minea,  or  minor,  a  dwarf,  is  the  first  to  bloom  here,  and 
is  closely  followed  by  H.  flava,  the  common  Lemon 
Lily,  flawless  in  colour  and  finely  scented.  If  the  various 
sorts  of  Hemerocallis  are  planted  they  will  reach  well 
into  August,  and  are  delightful  company  all  along  the 
way.  Of  the  kinds  blooming  in  May  and  June,  besides 
minor  and  flava,  there  are  Apricot,  well  named  for  its 
fine  colour;  Dumortierii,  with  an  orange-coloured  inte- 
rior and  a  bronze  coat;  Middendorfii,  orange  and  rather 
dwarf;  Gold  Dust,  a  fine  rich  yellow;  Buttercup,  bright 
yellow,  and  Sovereign,  clear  yellow  within  and  chocolate 
without.  Later  comes  the  tawny  fulva,  the  old  Orange 
Day  Lily  of  the  roadsides;  Thunbergii,  much  like  the 
Lemon  Lily  and  as  sweetly  scented;  citrina,  with  small 
flowers  of  a  lovely  pale  shade;  Aureole,  a  truly  "brass 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  79 

and  copper  lily";  Dr.  Regel,  splendid  orange;  luteola, 
bright  yellow  and  reaching  a  height  of  four  feet;  auran- 
tiaca  major,  huge  apricot-coloured  flowers,  sweetly 
scented;  and  Kwanso,  a  handsome  double-flowered  form 
of  fulva. 

The  foliage  of  these  so-called  lilies  is  always  clean  and 
sightly,  and  they  demand  almost  nothing  of  us,  growing 
well  in  sun  or  shade,  in  damp  places,  or  in  the  borders, 
where  they  lend  themselves  to  all  sorts  of  good  asso- 
ciations. Garden  Heliotrope  is  lovely  with  them  and 
the  tall  white  and  "bleak  blue"  Lupines;  The  Flag  and 
Siberian  Irises  seem  to  belong  naturally  with  them,  and 
if  one  can  stand  a  perfectly  resounding  harmony  plant 
them  with  orange  and  scarlet  Oriental  Poppies.  I  al- 
ways do  myself,  and  rejoice  exceedingly  in  the  vibrant 
result. 

A  lovely  picture  exists  just  now  in  a  corner  of  the 
garden  where  a  spreading  mass  of  purple  Meadow  Rue 
(Thalictrum  aquilegifolium)  grows  in  company  with 
white  Lupines  and  a  pale  yellow  Iris  called  Canary  Bird. 
This  Meadow  Rue  is  a  fair  and  elegant  plant  with  cut 
metallic  foliage  like  that  of  Columbines  and  puffs  of 
purple  mistlike  bloom  on  leafy  stems  about  four  feet  tall. 
The  foliage  lasts  in  good  condition  the  summer  through, 
so  that  it  is  one  of  those  plants  which  should  be  given  a 
prominent  place.  We  have  recently  made  the  ac- 
quaintance of  another  Thalictrum,  said  to  grow  six  feet 
tall,  T.  glaucum.  The  foliage  of  this  one  is  distinctly 


80  MY  GARDEN 

gray  and  the  flowers  are  yellow.  It  should  prove  a  good 
plant  for  the  back  of  the  border.  Another  for  the  back 
of  the  border  is  the  recently  introduced  Thalictrum 
dipterocarpum,  purple  flowers  with  conspicuous  yellow 
anthers.  The  two  dwarfs,  minus  and  its  variety 
adiantifolium,  both  fernlike  and  pretty  with  the  good 
quality  of  long-lasting  foliage,  belong  at  the  front  of  the 
borders.  These  plants  require  a  deep,  rich  soil;  they  are 
not  subjects  for  dry,  shallow  places.  Frequent  division 
is  not  a  necessity.  My  clumps  have  been  undisturbed 
for  five  years  and  are  certainly  in  fine  condition.  They 
are  easily  raised  from  seed. 

Lupines  are  among  what  the  children  call  the  "very 
favourites,"  and  we  always  have  a  great  many.  They 
are  easily  raised  from  seed,  but  should  be  transplanted 
to  their  permanent  places  when  quite  small,  as  the 
long  taproot  makes  moving  them  without  doing  harm 
a  bit  difficult.  The  plants  are  not  long  lived  with 
us;  indeed  we  do  not  count  upon  them  for  more  than 
two  seasons  of  bloom,  but  being  so  easily  raised  from 
seed  and  seeding  themselves  besides  this  fault  is  not 
serious.  Lupinus  arbor eus  is  not  hardy  in  the  neigh- 
bourhood of  New  York,  but  L.  polyphyllus  has  many 
fine  hybrids.  I  have  two  beautiful  yellow  varieties, 
Somerset  and  Yellow  Boy,  which  are  effective  with  the 
purple  Meadow  Rue.  L.  Moerheimi  is  a  good  pink  sort, 
and  this  with  Nelly,  pink  and  white,  are  lovely  with 
hoary  Southernwood  bushes.  The  Bride  is  buff  and 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  81 

rose,  and  there  are  many  good  blue,  or  blue  and  white 
sorts,  also  mauve  and  purple.  I  am  not  sure  but  that 
the  tall  L.  albus,  with  spikes  of  creamy  blossoms,  is  the 
prettiest  of  all  and  certainly  it  is  the  most  useful.  We 
grow  it  behind  such  pinky-mauve  Irises  as  Queen  of 
May,  Her  Majesty,  and  Mme.  Pacquitte,  with  gray 
Stachys  as  a  foreground.  It  is  fine  also  with  the  orange 
Oriental  Poppies  or  Lemon  Lilies  and  indeed  is  no- 
where amiss.  If  the  spent  flower  stalks  are  cut  off 
Lupines  will  bloom  the  greater  part  of  the  summer. 

Many  pretty  things  festoon  the  low  walls  and  stone 
edgings  at  this  season.  The  two  little  Veronicas,  V. 
repens  and  prostrata,  are  as  blue  as  the  summer  sky  and 
creep  in  and  out  among  the  stones  and  over  into  the 
path  most  beguilingly.  Delightful,  too,  is  Corydalis 
lutea,  a  ferny,  feathery,  fluffy  little  plant  with  pale  yel- 
low flowers  and  the  power  to  get  a  footing  in  the  most 
impossible  places.  Nothing  could  be  prettier  for  old 
walls  or  flights  of  stone  steps,  and  as  it  seeds  freely 
and  can  be  trusted  entirely  to  dispose  of  itself  in  the 
most  charming  manner,  is  no  trouble  at  all.  It  has  a 
noble  relation,  C.  nobilis,  which  blooms  late  in  the  month 
and  dies  down  entirely  after  flowering.  It  is  much 
taller  than  the  little  Yellow  Fumatory  just  mentioned, 
but  has  the  same  lovely  foliage  and  creamy  tubular 
blossoms  which  last  in  perfection  fully  three  weeks.  C. 
cheilanthifolia  is  another  fine  sort  for  walls  or  the  edge 
of  the  border.  They  are  all  easily  raised  from  seed, 


82  MY  GARDEN 

will  grow  in  sun  or  shade,  and  lutea  blooms  all  summer 
until  hard  frost. 

In  many  places  along  the  low  walls  Cat-mint,  Nepeta 
Mussini,  slowly  evolves  from  a  gray  curtain  to  a  laven- 
der veil.  This  splendid  plant  blooms  all  summer  long, 
and  is  one  of  the  most  useful  and  lovely  things  we  have. 
When  in  full  flower,  the  small,  aromatic  gray  leaves  are 
quite  hidden  by  the  crowding  lavender  flower  spikes,  but 
in  or  out  of  bloom  it  is  a  plant  of  great  charm.  It  stands 
our  hot,  dry  summers  without  flinching,  is  perfectly 
hardy,  but  needs  to  be  divided  every  year  or  so. 

By  the  last  week  in  May  summer  has  fairly  come;  the 
June  Irises  are  in  possession  and  climbing  Roses  are  in 
turbulent  bloom  upon  their  walls  and  trellises.  Over 
night  the  tight,  hairy  caps  of  the  Oriental  Poppies  have 
burst,  and  one  wakes  to  find  great  tongues  of  flame  leap- 
ing up  in  all  directions.  They  are  the  torch-bearers  of 
the  great,  lavish  queen  Summer  and  the  garden  is  "en 
fete."  When  they  are  gone  we  shall  see  that  here  a 
scarlet  Lychnis  has  been  kindled  into  life — there,  a 
blood-red  Pseony;  across  the  garden  a  flight  of  English 
Poppies  burn  their  vivid  lives  away,  and  the  torch  of  a 
tawny  Day  Lily  flares  up.  They  stay  just  long  enough 
to  let  us  have  our  fill  of  gorgeous  colour — longer,  and 
we  should  be  satiated  and  find  these  daring  things  too 
coarse  and  glaring,  but  Nature  does  not  make  such  mis- 
takes. Besides  the  orange-coloured  and  scarlet  Oriental 
Poppies  there  are  some  in  softer  shades :  salmon,  blush, 


MAY  IN  THE  GARDEN  83 

rose,  mahogany,  and  lately  a  pure  white  one.  These 
are  all  lovely  with  the  gray  foliage  plants,  especially 
with  Rue  and  Artemisia  Stellariana,  but  should  be  kept 
out  of  the  way  of  the  orange  and  scarlet  sorts.  Some  of 
the  best  are  Blush  Queen,  Bracteatum,  good  red;  Beauty 
of  Livermore,  deep  crimson;  Marie  Studholme,  salmon 
with  purple  stain;  Mrs.  Perry  Salmon;  Silver  Queen, 
lovely  flushed  white;  Medusa,  satiny  rose;  Lady  Roscoe, 
terra  cotta,  and  Perry's  White. 

Oriental  Poppies  are  easily  raised  from  seed  and  they 
also  seed  themselves  freely  in  our  garden,  often  creating 
havoc  of  some  pet  colour  scheme,  for  it  is  not  possible  to 
allow  them  to  associate  with  just  anybody.  The  long 
taproot  of  these  Poppies  enables  them  to  stand  our 
dry  summers  without  great  suffering.  The  flowers  last 
longer  in  partial  shade,  but  the  plants  are  as  well  off  in 
full  sunshine.  After  flowering  the  foliage  usually  dies 
away,  not  reappearing  until  the  cooler  nights  of  August 
lure  it  above  ground  again.  This  leaves  a  blank  in  the 
borders,  and  so  behind  all  the  Oriental  Poppies  we  plant 
Gypsophila  paniculata,  the  mistlike  bloom  of  which 
covers  their  vagrant  ways  and  is  ready  to  be  cut  away 
by  the  time  the  Poppies  see  fit  to  reappear. 


CHAPTER  FIVE 

JUNE   MAGIC 

"I  am  not  only  well  content  but  highly  pleased  with  the  plants 
and  fruits  growing  in  these  my  own  little  gardens." 

— Epicurus. 

THIS  is  the  month  when  the  least  of  us  gardeners 
may  proudly  survey  his  flowery  realm  and  say, 
"not  so  bad,"  for  June  seldom  disappoints  us. 
All  danger  from  frost  is  past,  the  long  rainy  spells  with 
cold  nights  and  chilly,  discouraging  days  are  over,  the 
devastating  electric  storms  and  cruel  droughts  have  not 
yet  come,  and  the  gay  throng  of  Foxgloves,  Sweet  Wil- 
liams, Irises,  Pseonies,  Pinks,  and  old-fashioned  Roses 
are  seldom  to  be  found  in  the  category  of  blighted  hopes. 
Wherever  the  eye  wanders  is  a  lovely  picture.  Roses 
tumble  over  the  walls,  or  riot  up  their  trellises,  Valerian 
spreads  its  lacy  canopies  above  scarlet  Poppies  or  soft- 
coloured  Iris;  a  burnished  Copper  Brier  displays  itself 
in  fine  contrast  to  creamy  Lupines  and  a  tender  mauve 
Iris,  and  blue  and  white  frilled  Iris  Mme.  Chereau 
looked  never  before  so  enchanting  as  with  its  back- 
ground of  yellow  Rose  Harisoni.  Fine  masses  of  clear 
colour  are  created  by  the  slender  Siberian  Irises,  gay 
pink  and  white  and  crimson  Pyrethrums  nod  from  the 

84 


A  GRAND  BURST  OF  PEONIES  USUALLY  CELEBRATES  THE  ARRIVAL  OF  JUNE" 


JUNE  MAGIC  85 

borders;  against  the  wall  a  great  Gloire  de  Dijon  Rose 
presses  its  soft  flushed  cheek,  and  from  every  chink  and 
cranny  of  walls  and  steps  and  stone  edgings,  delicious 
Pinks  shake  out  their  perfumed  fringes. 

In  a  corner  of  the  garden  the  great  rounded  bushes  of 
Baptisia  australis  are  bristling  with  well-filled  spikes  of 
clouded  blue,  pea-shaped  flowers.  This  plant,  which 
grows  four  feet  tall  and  as  thick  through,  with  the  yellow 
Baptisia  tindoria,  are  splendid  all-summer  subjects,  for 
they  retain  their  fine  rounded  form  until  cut  down  by 
frost.  The  foliage  of  australis  is  somewhat  metallic  in 
colour,  while  that  of  tinctoria  is  very  pale  green,  both 
valuable  in  various  colour  arrangements  and  blending 
well  with  their  own  blossoms.  The  Baptisias  are  easily 
raised  from  seed,  but  require  several  years  to  arrive  at  an 
effective  size.  Frequent  division  is  not  desirable,  and 
they  will  grow  as  well  in  the  deep,  rich  soil  of  the  borders 
as  in  damp  places,  though  the  latter  is  their  choice. 

A  grand  burst  of  Pseonies  usually  celebrates  the  ar- 
rival of  June.  The  old  crimson  Pseony  and  the  lovely 
albiflora  belong  to  May  and  are  past,  and  the  memory  of 
their  simple  sweetness  is  almost  effaced  by  the  wonders 
of  form  and  colour  which  follow  in  the  train  of  June. 
Some  are  so  double  as  to  be  nearly  as  round  as  balls; 
others,  like  great  loose-petalled  Water-lilies;  still  others 
that  are  called  "anemone-flowered,"  with  a  rounded 
tuft  of  petals  in  the  centre  and  a  circle  of  flat  florets,  and 
still  others  are  quite  single.  And  the  colours  range  from 


86  MY  GARDEN 

pure  white  and  cream  through  all  the  diaphanous  pinks 
to  rose  and  amaranth  and  dark,  rich  crimson. 

To  open  a  Paeony  catalogue  is  to  be  plunged  into  be- 
wilderment, for  there  are  countless  varieties,  each  sound- 
ing more  desirable  than  the  last.  We  have  not  many 
kinds  here — only  twelve,  besides  the  May  flowerers — and 
none  of  the  fine  single  ones  as  yet.  Our  list  is  of  the  less 
expensive  sorts,  but  all  are  beautiful: 

Festiva  maxima — round,  pure  white,  flecked  crimson. 

Mme.  Calot — silvery  pink. 

Mons.  Chas.  Leveque — soft  salmon-pink. 

Duchesse  de  Nemours — white  with  creamy  heart.    Fragrant. 

Candidissima — white  with  buff  centre. 

Albert  Crousse — fresh  salmon-pink.    Very  fragrant. 

Claude  Lorraine — flesh-pink — loose  petals. 

Marie  Lemoine — white — fragrant. 

Philomele — deep  cream  colour  with  pink  collar. 

Paul  Joubert — crimson  with  gold  anthers. 

Gloria  Mundi — blush,  centre  pale  yellow — sweet  scented. 

Mme.  Forel — bright  rose. 

Louis  van  Houtte — dark  purple-crimson. 

Pseonies  will  grow  under  almost  any  conditions,  as  is 
shown  by  the  fine  plants  we  see  in  the  tangled  grass  of 
deserted  gardens,  but  they  respond  magnificently  to  a 
heavily  manured  soil,  and  in  partial  shade  the  blossoms 
will  show  a  finer  colour  and  last  longer  in  perfection. 
Once  planted,  they  should  not  be  dug  up  and  divided, 
but  left  in  peace  to  grow  into  huge  bushes  that  will  in 
time  produce  dozens  of  splendid  flowers.  Pseonies  are 
lovely  grown  in  wide  borders  with  the  free-growing  June 


JUNE  MAGIC  87 

Roses,  with  clumps  of  the  great  Dalmatian  Iris,  and 
bushes  of  Rue  and  Southernwood. 

Pinks  belong  to  June  and  are,  of  all  her  belongings,  the 
very  sweetest;  indeed,  they  seem  to  me  the  sweetest 
flowers  of  any  month.  Once  I  set  out  to  know  all  the 
Pinks,  wild  and  tame,  but  soon  found  that  my  garden 
was  not  suited  to  all:  the  little  alpines,  Dianthus 
neglectus,  alpinus,  glacialis,  and  some  others  that  I 
sought  to  please,  dwindled  and  pined  in  a  sadly  home- 
sick manner.  I  gathered  together  all  the  catalogues, 
foreign  and  domestic,  that  listed  the  seeds,  or  plants  of 
Pinks,  and  collected  all  the  Pink  literature — which  is 
little  enough,  considering  the  charm  of  the  subject — and 
after  much  experimenting  and  petitioning,  have  a  deli- 
cious company  settled  in  nooks  and  corners  about  the 
garden,  though  many  that  I  wanted  badly  could  not  see 
their  way  to  stay. 

The  first  I  had  was,  of  course,  Dianthus  plumarius, 
the  Grass  or  Scotch  Pink,  that  everybody  knows  and 
loves.  It  has  many  fine  hybrids,  some  so  fine  as  to  cost 
twenty-five  cents  the  packet,  but  the  cheaper  ones  are  as 
sweet,  and  they  are  among  the  friendliest  things  of 
the  whole  summer,  spreading  quickly  into  great  soft- 
coloured  mats,  starred  with  sweet,  fringed  blossoms, 
double  or  single.  The  old  pure-white  fringed  Pink,  D. 
fimbriatus,  and  its  double  sort  make  charming  border 
edgings,  and  another  good  white  one  for  this  purpose  is 
Mrs.  Sinkins,  very  fat  and  double.  Still  others  are  Her 


88  MY  GARDEN 

Majesty  and  Albion  (white),  Delicata  (pink),  Gloriosa 
(rose),  and  Excelsior  (pink  with  carmine  centre).  The 
Mule  Pinks,  too,  are  splendid,  with  Napolian  III,  valiant 
red,  as  the  finest;  Furst  Bismark,  lovely  rose-colour,  a 
charming  second;  and  Alice,  a  fluffy  double  white,  not  far 
behind.  These,  of  course,  bear  no  seed  and  must  be  in- 
creased by  cuttings  or  division. 

Of  the  wild  Pinks,  the  first  we  had  was  the  Cheddar 
Pink,  Dianthus  caesius,  the  seeds  of  which  were  sent  us 
from  the  Cheddar  Cliffs  in  England,  where  we  had  seen 
them  accomplishing  veritable  explosions  of  rosy  bloom 
upon  the  ledges  of  the  fierce  gray  cliffs.  All  this  first  lot 
I  lost,  for  while  they  did  their  part  in  germinating  to  a 
seed,  I  was  so  stupid  as  not  to  know  how  to  make  them 
feel  at  home  and  put  them  in  the  fat  borders,  where  the 
winter  damp  put  an  end  to  these  cliff-dwellers  in  short 
order.  But  one  does  not  make  so  cruel  a  mistake  twice, 
and  now  there  are  plenty  of  Cheddars  tucked  about  in 
sunny  nooks  between  the  stones  *of  walls  and  steps 
where  they  are  quite  hardy  and  at  peace.  The  Maiden 
Pink,  D.  deltoides,  a  tiny  thing  of  dry  British  pastures,  is 
one  of  the  easiest  to  grow  and  exhibits  a  vigour  one  does 
not  expect  from  so  small  a  thing.  Its  blunt  leaves  are 
small  and  dark,  and  it  grows  into  such  thick  mats  as  to 
form  something  very  like  a  turf,  which  may  be  used 
upon  dry  banks  where  grass  is  cared  for  with  difficulty. 
But  it  belongs  to  the  garden,  too,  and  fringes  my  wall 
tops  and  stone  edgings  charmingly.  The  flowers  are  so 


JUNE  MAGIC  89 

pink  as  to  be  quite  jewel-like  in  their  brightness,  and 
there  is  a  white  sort  which  foams  over  the  edgings  and 
into  the  path  with  quite  distracting  results.  The  Sand 
Pink,  D.  arenarius,  is  quite  different  in  character,  form- 
ing strong  tufts  of  bluish-green  foliage,  from  which  rise 
slender  stems,  carrying  deeply  cut  white  blossoms,  very 
sweetly  scented;  it  likes  a  light  sandy  soil  and  rejoices  in 
a  comfortable  cranny,  if  one  is  to  be  had.  D.  petraeus 
is  a  small,  sweet,  fringy,  rose-coloured  alpine  from  the 
Balkans,  disliking  wet  feet  in  winter,  but  otherwise  of 
easy  culture.  D.  Seguieri  forms  nice,  upstanding  little 
bushes  more  than  a  foot  high  with  light-green  leaves  and 
gay  purple-spotted,  rose-coloured  blossoms.  D.  super- 
bus  is  a  pretty  thing  blooming  freely  the  first  year  from 
seed.  Its  tall  stems,  over  two  feet  in  height,  carry  several 
lilac-pink  fringed  blossoms,  which,  if  not  allowed  to  seed, 
continue  all  summer.  This  Pink  will  grow  in  the  ordi- 
nary soil  of  the  borders,  not  requiring  a  cranny.  D. 
atrorubens  is  not  one  of  the  fragrant  Pinks,  but  its  small, 
rich  red  blossoms  clustered  in  a  flat  head  like  a  small 
Sweet  William  make  up  in  glow  what  they  lack  in  other 
qualities.  It  remains  in  bloom  for  a  long  time. 

The  song  of  my  Pinks  is  almost  at  an  end,  for  there  re- 
mains only  D.  sylvestris,  the  Wood  Pink,  which  does  not 
like  the  woods  at  all,  but  full  sunshine,  and  which  has  the 
reputation  of  being  what  Mr.  Reginald  Farrer  would  call 
a  "miff"  and  may  prove  so  here.  It  is  a  new  acquaint- 
ance and  still  occupies  a  gravelly  bed  in  the  nursery,  but 


90  MY  GARDEN 

its  tufts  of  narrow  bluish  foliage  are  in  such  a  flattering 
condition  of  health  that  my  hopes  are  high  for  a  grand 
display  before  long.  Mr.  Correvon  describes  it  thus, 
"the  pink  flowers  large,  elegant,  bluish  spotted  at  the 
base  of  the  petals,  with  blue-lilac  anthers;  petals  more  or 
less  toothed.  The  plant  is  stout  and  strong,  and  ex- 
tremely floriferous,  blooming  from  June  to  September  in 
rock  work  in  full  sun."* 

Of  course  all  the  Pinks  marry  and  intermarry,  and 
bring  forth  many  a  soft-coloured,  sweet-breathed  sur- 
prise for  me,  and  I  should  miss  them  more  than  any  of 
the  garden's  children.  They  are  plants  for  sunny  nooks 
and  corners,  friendly  things  to  be  tended  by  loving  hands 
and  enjoyed  by  those  who  care  for  what  is  sweet  and 
simple.  As  old  Parkinson  knew,  they  are  "of  a  most 
fragrant  scent,  comforting  the  spirits  and  senses  afar 
off." 

This  brings  us  to  friend  Sweet  William,  who,  while  not 
a  Pink,  is  yet  a  Dianthus  and  so  belongs  here.  The  old 
garden  books  speak  both  of  Sweet  Williams  and  Sweet 
Johns,  the  latter  being  distinguished  by  very  narrow 
leaves,  and  I  am  sure  there  were  Johns  growing  in  the 
tangled  grass  about  this  farmhouse  when  we  came  to 
live  here,  for  the  very  narrow  leaves  of  the  Sweet 
Williams  I  found  puzzled  me.  But  I  did  not  then  know 
about  Johns,  and  as  the  flowers  were  of  that  wishy- 


*It  proved  to  be  no  "miff,"  but  a  lovely,  hardy  little  plant,  quite  happy  in  its 
gravelly  bed  and  remained  in  bloom  a  long  time. 


JUNE  MAGIC  91 

washy,  anaemic,  red  colour  which  has  given  magenta  a 
bad  name,  I  did  not  try  to  save  any  in  the  "cleaning 
up."  Sweet  Williams  are  old  and  valued  friends  and 
most  helpful  in  the  June  scheme  of  things.  The  lovely 
salmon-pink  variety  is  a  real  acquisition,  and  the  fluffy, 
double  white  ones  are  pretty,  too.  I  do  not  care  for  the 
two-coloured  sorts,  but  the  fine  blackish  crimson  one, 
that  John  Rea  describes  as  a  "deep,  rich  murrey  velvet 
colour"  and  considered  "the  finest  of  the  Williams,"  is 
very  splendid  and  useful  for  grouping  with  flowers  of  a 
raw  red  shade. 

Sweet  Williams  seem  to  have  a  natural  affinity  for 
Foxgloves,  as  any  one  will  agree  who  has  seen  them  in- 
citing each  other  to  greater  achievements  of  discordant 
colour  in  old  gardens  where  they  have  been  allowed  to 
seed  promiscuously.  But  this  affinity  may  be  taken 
advantage  of  to  bring  about  a  very  happy  union  if 
white  Foxgloves  and  salmon  Sweet  Williams  are  brought 
together,  and  I  like  to  add  to  this  group  clumps  of 
striped  grass  or  Gardener's  Garters.  Sweet  Williams 
are  best  treated  as  biennials,  as  the  old  plants  lose  their 
stocky  form  and  deteriorate  generally,  and  it  is  best  to 
buy  fresh  seed  and  not  depend  upon  the  gypsy  seedlings, 
for  these  usually  hark  back  to  their  magenta  forebears. 

In  old  works  on  gardening  Thrift  (Armeria)  is  al- 
ways included  under  the  head  of  Pinks,  and  the  tidy, 
tufted  growth  and  rosy  blossoms  of  both  certainly  sug- 
gest kinship.  The  Sea,  or  Cushion  Pink,  Armeria 


92  MY  GARDEN 

maritima,  in  its  variety  Laucheana,  is  a  gay  little  thing 
with  dense  tufts  of  dark  foliage  studded  with  brilliant 
pink  blossoms.  There  is  a  white  variety,  and  both  were 
largely  used  in  the  old  days  for  "impaling"  or  edging  the 
quaint  "knottes"  which  held  within  bounds  the  sweet 
tangle  of  old-fashioned  Roses,  Lavender,  and  Rockets  of 
Elizabethan  gardens.  It  is  as  good  for  this  purpose  now 
as  then,  and  may  also  be  used  in  little  groups  along  the 
borders  or  between  the  stones.  A.  Cephalotes  (syn. 
latifolid)  is  a  pretty  little  plant,  too,  but  taller,  sending 
up  its  wiry  stems  a  foot  high  and  bearing  its  globes  of 
rosy  bloom  with  a  jaunty  air.  A.  caespitosa  is  a  charm- 
ing alpine  species  which  sends  up  tall  stems  from  its 
tuft  of  green  bearing  pink  flower  heads.  It  requires  a 
poor  rather  sandy  soil  and  a  sunny  nook  between  two 
stones. 

Foxgloves  are  widely  known  and  grown  and  loved, 
and  the  June  garden  would  lack  much  without  their 
graceful  spires.  The  creamy  white  ones  are  the  pret- 
tiest, and  it  is  best  in  any  case  to  buy  the  seeds  in  sep- 
arate colours,  for  the  magenta  sorts  are  not  suitable  for 
many  associations.  Here  we  grow  them  with  bushes  of 
Southernwood  and  Rue,  with  gray  Stachys  lanata  and 
the  gleaming  Snow  Queen  Iris.  The  white  ones  are 
never  amiss  and  the  tall  spires  of  "beauty  long  drawn 
out"  rise  from  every  part  of  the  garden.  Of  course  the 
biennial  character  of  these  plants  makes  it  necessary  to 
raise  them  every  year  from  seed,  but  they  usually  seed 


JUNE  MAGIC 

"WHEREVER  THE  EYE  WANDERS  is  A  LOVELY  PICTURE — THE  GAY  THRONG 

OF    FOXGLOVES,    SWEET     WILLIAMS,    IRISES,    P^EONIES,    PINKS,     AND     OLD- 
FASHIONED  ROSES" 


JUNE  MAGIC  93 

themselves  so  freely  that  we  are  saved  this  piece  of  work. 
We  entertain  here  two  other  Foxgloves — Digitalis 
ambigua  (syn.  grandiflord) ,  and  D.  orientalist  Both  are 
yellow-flowered — the  former  growing  about  two  feet  tall 
and  producing  its  belled  flower  spikes  off  and  on  all 
summer  and  autumn,  and  the  latter,  taller  with  smaller 
flowers. 

In  a  corner  of  the  garden  with  some  bushes  of  South- 
ernwood and  white  Moss  Roses  grows  an  old-fashioned 
plant  called  Fraxinella  (Dictamnus),  sometimes  called 
Burning  Bush  from  the  fact,  claimed  to  have  been  dis- 
covered by  the  daughter  of  Linnaeus,  that  after  night- 
fall an  inflammable  vapour  comes  from  the  blossoms; 
but  though  we  have  many  times  experimented,  singed 
fingers  have  been  our  only  reward — and  this  through 
holding  the  matches  too  long.  However,  the  Fraxinella, 
when  well  established,  is  a  very  beautiful  plant  growing 
into  stout  clumps  with  beautiful  dark  foliage  lasting  in 
fine  condition  the  summer  through  and  bearing  spikes 
of  white  or  purplish  fringy  flowers  with  a  strange  odour 
which  the  children  declare  is  both  "horrid  and  nice." 
The  plants  should  not  be  dug  up  and  divided,  but  left  to 
themselves  will  outlast  whole  generations  of  mere  humans. 

In  another  part  of  the  garden  is  a  lovely  picture  where 
the  shell-like  bloom  of  a  climbing  Rose,  Newport  Fairy, 
creates  just  the  right  background  for  a  group  composed 
of  fleecy  Spircea  Aruncus,  tall  purple  Campanula  lati- 

*These  are  both  perennials. 


94  MY  GARDEN 

folia  var.  macrantha,  and  Lyme  Grass.  The  Spiraea  is  a 
fine  plant  of  this  season,  but  requires  a  deep,  rich,  reten- 
tive soil  to  be  at  its  best,  for  it  is  a  moisture  lover.  The 
herbaceous  Spiraeas  have  not  done  very  well  in  my 
garden,  it  is  too  dry,  but  for  damp  situations  there  are 
many  good  sorts.  Aruncus,  however,  has  been  an  ex- 
ception with  one  other,  S.  Filipendulafl.  pi.,  the  double- 
flowered  Drop  wort,  growing  about  two  feet  tall,  with 
feathery  foliage  and  heads  of  white  flowers.  Both  are 
in  a  north  border  in  heavy,  deep  soil. 

The  Campanulas  are  a  large  family  of  varying  merit 
and  blossom,  in  the  different  varieties,  in  May,  June, 
July,  and  August.  C.  glomerata,  the  Clustered  Hairbell, 
is  a  good  May  sort  about  a  foot  high  with  rich  purple  or 
white  flowers.  The  best  June  Bellflowers  besides  lati- 
folia  macrantha,  which  grows  about  three  feet  tall,  and 
also  has  a  white  variety,  are  the  well-known  Canter- 
bury Bell,  C.  Medium,  the  tall  C.  lactiflora,  and  the  lovely 
Peach-leaved  Bellflower,  C.  persicifolia.  This  is  a 
beautiful  plant  and  quite  the  flower  of  the  Campanulas 
to  my  thinking — sending  up  from  a  tuft  of  narrow, 
shining  leaves  stems  two  or  three  feet  tall,  well  hung 
with  glistening  white  or  lavender-blue  bells.  Humosa  is 
a  light-blue  double  sort,  and  Moerheimii  a  very  fine 
double-flowered  white.  These  are  charming  planted  in 
little  thickets  with  the  late  yellow  Columbine,  A. 
chrysantha,  or  with  bright  coral-coloured  Heucheras, 
such  as  Pluie  de  Feu,  or  Rosamund.  The  plants  re- 


JUNE  MAGIC  95 

quire  yearly^  division,  and  our  stock  may  also  be  in- 
creased by  means  of  the  offsets  that  are  freely  produced. 

A  fine  new  sort  is  lactiflora  alba  magnifica.  C.  lac- 
tiflora  blooms  toward  the  end  of  the  month  and  into 
July,  and  has  spikes  of  bells  the  colour  of  skimmed 
milk.  There  is  a  white  sort,  too,  and  both  are  useful 
plants  but  such  formidable  seeders  that  they  become  a 
pest  if  allowed  a  free  hand,  and  so  we  are  careful  to  cut 
off  the  flower  stalks  as  soon  as  the  blossoming  is  past. 

Of  course  all  the  June  pictures  have  Roses  as  one 
element  in  their  composition,  for  they  are  everywhere — 
toppling  over  the  high  stone  walls,  smothering  the  low 
ones,  creating  fairy  halls  of  the  pergolas  and  arbours; 
and  besides  the  climbers  there  are  those  which  grow  in 
lovely  long-limbed  abandon  as  bushes,  mingling  freely 
and  democratically  with  the  perennials.  In  front  of  a 
post,  which  has  the  felicity  of  supporting  a  peach-pink 
American  Pillar  Rose,  grows  a  mass  of  feathery  Clematis 
recta  and  several  plants  of  the  sky-blue  Italian  Alkanet, 
Anchusa  italica.  The  Anchusa  is  a  lovely  thing,  and  no 
plant,  not  excepting  the  Delphinium  itself,  decks  itself 
in  a  more  truly  azure  colour.  Its  height  varies  con- 
siderably with  me  according  to  soil  and  situation  and  its 
own  sweet  will;  it  may  be  anywhere  from  two  to  four 
feet  tall.  Better  than  the  type  is  the  Dropmore 
variety,  and  better  still,  it  is  said,  is  that  called  Opal,  but 
to  this  I  cannot  testify.  Anchusas  have  a  longer  con- 
secutive period  of  bloom  than  the  Delphiniums,  for  if 


96  MY  GARDEN 

the  great  central  stalk  is  cut  down  after  flowering, 
laterals  spring  up,  which  carry  it  into  August.  These 
plants  seem  not  to  mind  the  drought  at  all,  which  should 
gain  for  them  our  especial  interest,  and  they  are  easily 
raised  from  seed.  As  it  is  practically  a  biennial  one  has 
to  take  its  propagation  into  account,  and  while  raising 
it  from  seed  is  simple  enough,  much  quicker  and  more 
satisfactory  is  the  method  given  by  Mr.  W.  P.  Wright 
in  his  invaluable  book  on  hardy  perennials.  "When 
spring  comes  there  is  a  brown  stump  which  looks  to  be 
entirely  devoid  of  life.  It  may  be  broken  away  almost 
like  bark  from  a  tree  and  it  will  probably  be  found  that 
there  is  a  green  sprout  below,  which  may  be  left  to  grow. 
As  regards  the  barklike  parts,  they  may  be  cut  into« 
pieces  with  a  sharp  knife,  and  will  prove  to  be  fleshy  and 
quick.  The  portions  may  be  covered  with  moist,  gritty 
soil  in  a  pot  or  box  and  put  in  a  warm  frame  or  green- 
house. Shoots  will  start  from  them,  which  may  be  re- 
moved with  a  'heel'  of  the  older  growth  and  inserted  in 
small  pots.  They  will  root  and  form  plants  in  due 
course.  Pieces  of  the  horse-radish-like  taproots  may 
also  be  inserted,  as  they  are  likely  to  root  and  make 
plants."  Anchusas  should  be  transplanted  when  quite 
small  if  possible,  as  the  deep-burrowing  taproot  is  diffi- 
cult to  get  out  intact. 

These  sky-blue  flowers  are  lovely  grown  near  the 
blushing  Stanwells'  Perpetual  Brier  Rose,  and  we  have 
it  charmingly  situated  in  front  of  a  trellis  occupied 


JUNE  MAGIC  97 

jointly  by  the  white  Rose  Trier  and  a  pinky-mauve 
Clematis  of  the  Viticella  type.  Bees  love  the  Alkanets 
as  they  do  its  relatives,  Borage  and  our  native  Buglos, 
and  there  is  always  a  pleasant  drone  and  hum  in  its 
neighbourhood.  I  do  not  know  if  it  is  a  scientific  fact 
that  bees  best  love  blue  flowers,  but  they  seem  to,  giving 
them  preference  even  over  white  ones  which  are  said  to 
be  the  most  fragrant. 

Of  course  the  pride  of  the  late  June  garden  is  her 
Delphiniums,  and  perhaps  I  may  bring  wrath  upon  my- 
self when  I  say  that  I  cannot  but  feel  that  these  beauti- 
ful flowers  are  in  grave  danger  of  being  done  to  death  by 
the  hybridists.  A  long  way  have  they  travelled  since 
Hood  sang,  "Light  as  a  loop  of  Larkspur,"  and  what 
with  doubling  and  crowding  are  in  a  fair  way  to  be 
called  stout,  though  somehow  their  celestial  colour 
makes  the  unflattering  epithet  seem  unfit  and  keeps  one 
in  mind  of  their  slim  youth.  Every  season  many  new 
varieties  are  put  forth  to  dazzle  the  world  and  they  make 
superb  blocks  of  colour  in  the  garden,  but  I  cling  to 
those  which  are  less  perfect  from  a  florist's  viewpoint. 
The  true  Belladonna  is  an  exquisite,  graceful  plant, 
and  many  of  its  offspring  reproduce  this  fine  quality  of 
the  parent — and  there  is  another  sort,  which  we  used  to 
get  as  formosum  coelestinum,  now  doubtless  looked 
upon  as  a  back  number  but  which  has  the  same  willowy 
grace  and  celestial  colour. 

Persimmon,  Lizzie  van  Veen,  and  Capri  are  lovely  sky- 


98  MY  GARDEN 

blue  sorts.  King  of  Delphiniums  is  a  strong  dark  blue 
with  a  plum-coloured  flush.  Lizzie  is  a  good  bright  blue 
slightly  flushed;  Queen  Wilhelmina,  large,  light-blue 
flowers  with  a  white  eye;  and  Somerset,  light  blue  and 
lavender  with  a  dark  eye.  There  are  white  sorts  of  re- 
cent introduction,  but  these  never  seem  to  me  true 
Larkspurs,  so  strongly  does  the  word  seem  to  stand  for 
blue. 

A  package  of  mixed  Delphinium  seed  purchased  from 
a  reliable  house  will  produce  lovely  results,  the  plants 
blooming  the  first  season  if  sown  early.  In  our  hot 
climate  Delphiniums  should  be  given  a  rich,  well- 
manured  soil,  and  copious  watering  in  June  will  insure 
better  flower  spikes  and  a  longer  stay.  If  the  spent 
flower  stalks  are  cut  to  the  ground  another  blossoming 
may  be  enjoyed  in  the  late  summer  and  fall.  Yearly 
division  is  not  necessary:  every  third  year  is  often 
enough,  when  they  may  be  taken  up  and  divided  in 
April,  just  after  growth  has  started.  Beautiful  pictures 
may  be  made  by  planting  Delphiniums  against  the 
trellises  of  gay  climbing  Roses. 

There  is  a  strong  coloured  group  of  flowers  belonging 
to  June  and  early  July  which,  while  they  seem  far  re- 
moved from  the  azure  Delphiniums  and  Anchusas,  the 
soft  coloured  Foxgloves  and  Spiraeas,  nevertheless  play 
an  important  part  in  our  colour  arrangements.  Gail- 
lardias  are  bright  and  useful,  blooming  from  spring  until 
frost  if  not  allowed  to  seed  too  freely,  and  no  plant 


JUNE  MAGIC  99 

in  the  garden,  unless  it  be  the  ethereal  Gypsophila,  so 
sturdily  defies  the  drought.  Red  and  yellow  is  their 
colour  scheme  and  they  exhibit  many  variations  upon 
it.  There  are  many  named  varieties  listed  in  foreign 
catalogues  which  sound  attractive.  Gaillardias  look  best 
planted  in  fair-sized  colonies,  and  Baptisia  tinctoria, 
or  the  striped  Grass,  known  as  Gardener's  Garters,  is  a 
good  background  for  them. 

"The  Coreopsis  like  another  sun 
Risen  at  Noonday," 

is  a  conspicuous  object  in  the  mid-June  garden.  I  be- 
lieve it  is  the  yellowest  thing  of  the  whole  summer,  but 
it  is  a  sharp  colour  and  needs  a  softening  haze  of  Gyp- 
sophila to  make  it  happy.  Scarlet  Lychnis  is  another 
plant  with  a  difficult  colour  to  which  the  Gypsophila  is 
helpful.  It  is  a  strong-growing  plant  with  good,  lasting 
foliage  suited  to  the  back  of  the  border. 

A  number  of  bright-coloured  Lilies  bloom  in  June. 
The  Herring  Lilies,  L.  croceum,  are  particularly  bold 
and  splendid  in  the  neighbourhood  of  the  Belladonna 
Delphiniums;  and  those  of  the  elegans  type,  red,  apricot, 
or  yellow  are  pretty  grown  among  the  tufts  of  frail 
white  Heuchera  toward  the  front  of  the  borders. 


CHAPTER  SIX 

JULY    PROBLEMS 

What  right  have  we  to  blame  the  Garden 
Because  the  plant  has  withered  there? 

—Hafiz. 

JULY  is  often  a  discouraging  month  to  a  gardener 
who  does  not  employ  a  great  many  annuals.  Fol- 
lowing upon  the  exuberance  of  June,  it  seems  a  sort 
of  pause,  a  breathing  spell  before  the  grand  display  of 
almost  unfailing  Phloxes  and  their  train  of  late  summer 
flowers.  It  is  quite  true  that  there  are  not  as  many 
well-known  flowers  belonging  to  this  month  and,  in 
consequence,  many  gardens  are  quite  scantily  clothed 
with  bloom.  For  years  my  own  June  pride  was  regularly 
shattered  by  the  blank  which  followed  the  departure  of 
the  Flag  Irises,  Paeonies,  and  tumultuous  Roses,  and  it 
required  many  years  of  study  and  "trying  out"  before 
I  learned  how  many  fine  plants  there  are,  other  than 
annuals,  with  which  to  beautify  this  high  noon  of  the 
year. 

In  July,  also,  we  have  the  elements  against  us; 
whether  it  is  against  pitiless  drought  or  fierce  electric 
storms  that  we  must  contend,  it  is  very  difficult  to  keep 
the  garden  in  good  condition  and  the  plants  are  bound 

100 


JULY  PROBLEMS  101 

to  suffer  somewhat.  In  time  of  drought  the  garden 
assumes  an  air  of  passive  endurance;  one  does  not  feel 
the  growing  and  blowing,  and  while  there  may  be  plenty 
of  bloom,  it  appears  to  be  produced  without  enthusiasm 
and  quite  lacks  the  spontaneous  exuberant  quality  that 
one  is  conscious  of  in  the  earlier  year.  Then  must  we 
stir  the  soil  assiduously  to  conserve  what  little  moisture 
there  may  be  left  and  water  whenever  that  may  be  done 
thoroughly,  as  surface  wettings  do  more  harm  than 
good. 

Hardly  less  painful  to  the  plants  are  the  electric 
storms  with  twisting,  devastating  winds  and  pounding 
rains,  and  woe  to  the  gardener  who  has  not  done  his 
staking  in  season  and  with  intelligence!  A  prostrate 
garden  is  his  bitter  portion,  and  not  all  the  king's  horses 
and  all  the  gardeners  in  the  world  can  repair  the  broken 
stalks  of  Larkspur  and  Hollyhock,  raise  up  the  crushed 
masses  of  Coreopsis,  Gypsophila,  and  Anthemis,  or  mend 
the  snapped  stems  of  lovely  Lilies.  A  storm,  such  as  we 
are  all  familiar  with,  can  do  damage  in  half  an  hour  that 
we,  even  with  Nature's  willing  cooperation,  may  not  re- 
pair in  many  weeks.  But  with  faithful  cultivation,  in- 
telligent watering  and  staking,  and  a  knowledge  of  the 
plants  at  one's  command,  much  may  be  done  to  avert 
calamity  and  to  make  this  month  a  month  as  full  of  in- 
terest and  beauty  as  the  gay  seasons  past  and  to  come. 

Tall  spires  of  Larkspur  are  still  reaching  skyward 
when  July  comes  in.  Sweet  Williams,  Coreopsis,  Scar- 


102  MY  GARDEN 

let  Lychnis,  Madonna  and  Herring  Lilies  are  still  in 
good  order,  and  there  is  often  a  host  of  self-sown  or  early 
sown  annuals  creating  bright  patches  of  colour  about  the 
borders,  but  in  our  garden  the  most  prominent  features 
of  early  July  are  Hollyhocks  and  the  great  sunshiny 
Mulleins. 

For  many  years  a  hideous  disfiguring  disease  rendered 
Hollyhocks  almost  useless  for  garden  purposes  and  it 
was  only  in  out-of-the-way  corners  in  humble  gardens 
that  this  poor  plant,  once  so  lauded  and  admired,  raised 
its  stricken  head.  The  disease  first  shows  itself  in  ugly 
brown  pimples  on  the  under  side  of  their  foliage  and  it 
works  so  quickly  that  soon  the  whole  flower  stalk  stands 
bravely  flying  its  colours  still,  but  denuded  of  its  green- 
ery or  with  a  few  tattered  leaves  hanging  forlornly 
about  it.  Much  has  been  done  of  late  years,  however, 
by  lovers  of  the  Hollyhock  to  alleviate  its  sufferings,  and 
it  is  now  quite  possible  with  a  few  precautions  or  reme- 
dies to  have  this  splendid  flower  in  its  integrity.  We 
seldom  have  a  diseased  plant  in  our  garden,  and  our 
secret  is  simply  to  give  them  plenty  of  sun  and  air,  a  rich 
soil,  and  to  treat  them  as  biennials.  Old  plants  are 
much  more  apt  to  have  the  disease,  and  Hollyhocks  are 
so  easily  raised  from  seed  that  to  keep  up  a  stock  of 
young  ones  in  the  nursery  is  a  very  simple  matter.  We 
dig  up  the  old  plants  and  throw  them  away.  Plants  out 
in  the  open  (not  against  walls  or  fences)  where  the  air 
may  circulate  freely  about  them  are  much  more  likely 


HOLLYHOCKS  ARE  AMONG  THE  MOST  PICTORIAL  OF  PLANTS,  AND  IT  IS 
VERY  DIFFICULT  TO  FIND  ANYTHING  ELSE  TO  TAKE  THEIR  PLACE.  I  LIKE 
BEST  THE  SINGLE  ONES  IN  PINK  AND  BLACKISH  CRIMSON,  PALE  YELLOW  AND 
PURE  WHITE,  BUT  THE  DOUBLE  ONES  ARE  VERY  FINE  AND  OPULENT,  AND 
THE  LOVELY  SHADES  AND  TINTS  TO  BE  HAD  VERY  NUMEROUS" 


JULY  PROBLEMS  103 

to  be  healthy,  but  we  have  found  that  by  using  only 
young  plants  we  can  put  them  in  almost  any  position. 
Bone  meal  and  wood  ashes  are  both  good  as  tonics  for 
the  Hollyhocks,  and  there  are  a  number  of  sprays  recom- 
mended for  afflicted  plants.  Bordeaux  mixture  used 
several  times  in  spring  is  an  old  reliable  remedy,  and 
Mr.  C.  H.  Jenkins  in  his  "Hardy  Flower  Book"  recom- 
mends a  treatment  the  simplicity  of  which  is  certainly  in 
its  favour:  "Use  a  breakfast  cup  full  of  common  salt  to 
three  gallons  of  water.  Employ  an  Abol  syringe  with 
fine  mistlike  spray  so  that  the  solution  does  not  reach 
the  roots  of  the  plant."  This  should  be  done  about 
every  two  weeks  in  spring. 

Hollyhocks  are  among  the  most  pictorial  of  plants,  and 
it  is  very  difficult  to  find  anything  else  to  take  their 
place.  I  like  best  the  single  ones  in  pink  and  blackish 
crimson,  pale  yellow  and  pure  white,  but  the  double  ones 
are  very  fine  and  opulent,  and  the  lovely  shades  and 
tints  to  be  had  very  numerous.  One  I  had  from  Eng- 
land, called  Prince  of  Orange,  was  a  splendid  orange- 
copper  colour,  and  there  are  now  many  named  varieties. 
I  have  a  fine  group  of  salmon-pink  Hollyhocks  against  a 
large  tree  of  the  Purple-leaved  Plum,  and  another  cherry- 
coloured  group  has  a  fine  background  in  a  pink  Dorothy 
Perkins  Rose  which  drapes  the  wall  behind  it.  White 
Hollyhocks  are  fine  with  Tiger  Lilies,  and  there  are  many 
other  good  associations  for  them.  Althaea  ficifolia  is  a 
very  pretty  pale  yellow-flowered  single  sort  called  the 


104  MY  GARDEN 

Fig  Leaved  Hollyhock.  This  plant  is  slender  in  growth 
and  sends  up  lateral  stalks  which  keep  it  in  bloom  all 
summer  long. 

Next  to  Hollyhocks,  or  quite  equal  to  them  in  pictu- 
resque value,  save  that  they  have  not  the  wide  colour 
range,  are  the  radiant  Mulleins.  Every  one  knows  the 
noble  outline  of  the  wild  Mullein,  Verbascum  Thapsus, 
and  also  its  bad  habit  of  opening  but  a  few  of  its  blos- 
soms at  a  time.  The  foreign  and  hybrid  Mulleins  have 
the  same  splendid  form  and  clothe  their  great  cande- 
labra-like stalks  in  solid  bloom  which  continues  to  de- 
velop during  the  greater  part  of  the  summer.  Mulleins 
are  friends  of  only  about  four  years'  standing,  but  to  no 
other  flower  am  I  more  grateful  for  fine  and  lasting  effect. 
Their  soft  yellow  colour  is  so  sunshiny  as  to  really  seem 
to  cast  a  radiance  and  is  so  non-combative  as  to  affiliate 
well  with  almost  any  other  colour.  The  splendid  V. 
Olympicum  was  the  first  I  knew.  It  is,  like  most  of  the 
others,  biennial  in  character  and  grows  seven  feet  high. 
V.  phlomoides  is  as  splendid  and  as  tall,  and  V.  pannosum 
has  woolly  leaves  and  grows  about  five  feet  high.  V. 
phoeniceum  is  a  low-growing  sort,  two  feet,  sending  up 
from  a  flat  rosette  of  leaves  a  spike  set  with  flowers  of 
rose  or  purple  or  white,  but  this  sort  seems  to  me  much 
less  worthy  than  the  others.  V.  nigrum  has  yellow 
flowers  marked  with  purple  and  grows  four  feet  tall; 
there  is  a  white  variety  of  this. 

Of  late  years  a  number  of  good  hybrids  have  been 


JULY  PROBLEMS  105 

created  among  which  Harkness  Hybrid,  four  feet  tall 
with  yellow  flowers,  is  one  of  the  best.  Miss  Willmot  is  a 
beautiful  long-lasting  variety  bearing  large  white  flowers 
on  stems  six  feet  high,  and  Caledonia  is  a  lower  growing 
sort  with  sulphur-yellow  flowers  suffused  with  bronze 
and  purple.  There  are  two  verbascums,  namely  densi- 
florum  and  newryensis,  which  are  said  to  be  true 
perennials,  but  I  have  not  yet  procured  them. 

The  Mulleins  are  splendid  plants  for  our  American 
gardens  for  they  love  a  warm,  dry  soil  and  this  we  can 
certainly  give  them.  They  are  easily  raised  from  seed, 
perfectly  hardy,  and  as  they  self-sow  freely  it  is  not 
necessary  to  keep  up  a  stock  in  the  nursery.  The  Greek 
Mullein,  V.  olympicum,  which  is  my  favourite,  takes 
three  years  to  develop  its  blooming  ability  with  me,  so  I 
keep  the  great  rosettes  in  the  nursery  for  the  first  two. 
The  tall-growing  Mulleins  are  splendid  plants  for  the 
back  of  the  border  and  are  lovely  as  a  background  for 
blue  and  silver  Sea  Hollies  and  Globe  Thistles. 

The  handsome  Yarrow  family  offers  several  strong- 
growing  and  drought-resisting  subjects  for  the  July 
garden.  They  present  no  difficulty  in  the  way  of  cultiva- 
tion and  will  grow  in  poor,  dry  soil  if  they  must,  but 
require  yearly  division.  Achillea  filipendulina  (syn. 
Eupatorium),  in  a  variety  known  as  Parker's,  is  the 
flower  of  the  flock.  It  grows  in  strong  clumps  throwing 
up  stems  four  feet  high  nicely  clothed  with  feathery 
foliage  and  terminating  in  broad  corymbs  of  golden 


106  MY  GARDEN 

bloom.  This  plant  is  ornamental  from  the  first  appear- 
ance of  its  pleasant  green  in  spring  until  autumn  when 
the  yellow  flower  heads  have  softened  to  a  warm  brown. 
It  lives  out  its  span  of  life  in  dignity  and  order,  for  its 
foliage  remains  in  good  condition  to  the  last  and  it  has 
no  fuzzy  untidy  way  of  perpetuating  itself. 

A  cool  picture  for  this  summer  season  may  be  created 
with  tall  white  Hollyhocks,  Parker's  Yarrow,  early 
white  Phlox,  Miss  Lingard,  and  a  foreground  of  An- 
themis  Kelwayi.  A  patch  of  tawny  Hemerocallis  fulva 
is  a  good  neighbour  for  this  group.  Blue  and  white 
Aconites  are  fine  with  this  Yarrow  and  also  that 
splendid  hardy  plant,  Erigeron  speciosus  var.  superbus, 
which  grows  about  two  and  one-half  feet  high  and  bears 
innumerable  daisylike  flowers  of  a  fine  lilac-purple  from 
June  until  September.  It  may  be  easily  raised  from 
seed  and  will  sometimes  bloom  the  same  season  as 
sown. 

Achillea  sericea  is  a  good  Yarrow  having  much  the 
character  of  Parker's  save  that  it  grows  but  eighteen 
inches  high  and  starts  to  flower  in  June.  A.  ptarmica, 
fl.  pl.9  otherwise  known  as  The  Pearl,  we  have  banished 
from  our  borders  though  it  is  a  much-lauded  plant  by 
many  and  is  good  for  cutting;  it  has  no  domestic 
qualities,  must  rove  and  stray,  insinuating  its  wander- 
ing rootlets  into  the  internal  affairs  of  its  neighbours  and 
choking  out  many  a  timid  resident.  Its  bloom  is  pretty 
and  fluffy  but  its  stems  are  weak  and  vacillating;  alto- 


JULY  PROBLEMS  107 

gether  a  frivolous  and  unstable  creature  to  my  thinking. 
There  are  some  good  little  Ipine  Yarrows  with  gray 
foliage  quite  charming  for  creeping  among  the  stones  at 
the  edge  of  the  border.  A.  umbellata  has  pure- white 
flower  heads.  A.  tomentosa  has  dark  prostrate  foliage 
and  yellow  flowers ;  argentea  has  silvery  foliage  and  white 
flowers.  This  little  plant  grows  four  inches  high  and 
the  other  two  about  six. 

There  is  no  more  important  plant  in  the  mid-summer 
garden  than  Gypsophila  paniculata,  variously  known  as 
Chalk  Plant,  or  Baby's  Breath,  and  called  by  the  chil- 
drenhere  "LaceShawls."  Seemingly  oblivious  to  scorch- 
ing sun  and  prolonged  drought,  it  coolly  carries  out  its 
delicate  plan  of  existence  from  silver  haze  to  cool  white 
mist  to  fragile  brown  oblivion.  No  plant  is  so  ex- 
quisite an  accompaniment  to  so  many  others;  indeed, 
any  spot  where  it  grows  will  soon  become  a  lovely 
picture  without  our  agency.  Poppies  sow  their  seed 
about  it  and  rest  their  great  blossoms  upon  its  cloudlike 
bloom,  and  Nigellas  and  Snapdragons  are  particularly 
fine  in  association  with  it.  One  very  pretty  group  here 
has  Stachys  lanata  as  a  foreground  with  its  gray  velvet 
foliage  and  stalks  of  bloom  now  colouring  to  a  pinky 
mauve.  Behind  is  the  cloudlike  mound  of  Gypsophila, 
and  resting  upon  it,  its  large  flowers  partly  obscured  by 
the  mist,  is  a  pinkish-mauve  Clematis  kermesina.  The 
vine  is  supported  upon  pea-brush  which  does  not  show 
behind  the  Gypsophila. 


108  MY  GARDEN 

In  another  corner  that  lovely  and  courageously 
magenta  sprawler,  Callirhoe  involucrata,  glistens  ex- 
quisitely through  the  mist,  and  white  Lilies  rise  in  silver 
harmony  behind.  The  double-flowered  Gypsophila  is  a 
less  ethereal  but  very  beautiful  plant  and  should  find  a 
home  hi  every  garden.  The  single  sort  is  easily  raised 
from  seed  but  does  not  make  any  great  show  until  the 
third  year.  G.  repens  is  a  fine  little  trailer  for  the  edge 
of  the  border  with  a  long  period  of  bloom. 

The  Moonpenny  Daisies,  Chrysanthemum  maximum, 
are  invaluable  among  mid-summer  flowers.  They  make 
stout  bushy  clumps  of  dark  foliage,  two  to  three  feet 
tall,  with  large,  glistening,  marguerite-like  flowers  of 
much  substance.  They  spread  broadly  and  should  be 
divided  every  year,  and  they  enjoy  a  moderately  rich 
soil  and  sunshine.  Good  varieties  are  Mrs.  C.  Low- 
thian  Bell,  King  Edward  VII,  Robinsoni,  Mrs.  F. 
Daniels,  Mrs.  Terstag,  Alaska,  and  Kenneth.  They  are 
easily  raised  from  seed  and  last  a  long  time  in  bloom. 
The  china  whiteness  of  these  blooms  is  a  little  hard  so 
that  they  are  at  their  best  when  associated  with  the  soft- 
ening influence  of  such  plants  as  the  Artemisias,  Rue, 
Stachys,  Gypsophila,  and  Lyme  Grass. 

Goat's  Rue  (Galega  officinalis)  is  a  soft-coloured  de- 
lightful plant  of  the  present  season  with  attractive 
foliage  and  a  good  habit  of  growth.  It  is  fine  with 
Campanula  lactoflora  var.  magnifica  and  late  Orange 
Lilies.  The  delicate  lavender  sort  is  the  prettiest,  I  think, 


JULY  PROBLEMS  109 

though  the  white  is  also  desirable;  var.  Hartlandi  is 
considered  an  improvement. 

Several  fine  blue-flowered  families  make  valuable  con- 
tributions to  the  July  garden  and  linger  into  August — 
Veronicas,  Aconites,  Platycodons,  Eryngiums,  and  Echi- 
nops. 

The  Veronicas  are  a  splendid  race  with  good  foliage 
and  attractive  spikes  of  bloom,  blue,  rose,  or  white. 
Most  of  them  are  plants  for  the  middle  of  the  border, 
though  the  silver-leaved  V.  incana  belongs  in  the  front 
row  with  repens  and  prostrata,  and  the  tall  virginica  may 
have  a  place  at  the  back.  V.  spicata  grows  almost 
eighteen  inches  tall  and  bears  many  spikes  of  bright-blue 
flowers  and  has  a  good  white  variety  and  a  washed-out 
rose  sort.  If  cut  after  blooming  it  will  bloom  again 
toward  autumn. 

V.  virginica  grows  from  four  to  six  feet  high  and 
appreciates  a  heavy  soil.  Its  feathery  flower  spikes 
(white)  are  very  pretty  as  a  background  for  salmon 
Phloxes  such  as  Elizabeth  Campbell  or  Mrs.  Oliver.  It 
is  also  well  placed  with  the  Rose  Loosestrife.  The 
head  of  the  family  is  Veronica  longifolia  var.  subsessilis 
whose  sonorous  name  in  no  way  belies  the  vigorous  dig- 
nity and  importance  of  the  plant.  Its  foliage  is  rich  and 
strong,  and  in  late  July  and  August  its  long  sapphire 
spikes  of  bloom  are  a  delight  indeed.  If  the  season  is 
not  too  dry  it  remains  a  long  time  in  perfection  and  is 
on  hand  to  welcome  and  complete  the  beauty  of  some  of 


110  MY  GARDEN 

the  softly  coloured  pink  Phloxes,  Peach  Blow,  in  par- 
ticular, with  the  becoming  addition  to  the  group  of  some 
metallic  Sea  Hollies. 

I  must  confess  to  having  had  some  trouble  with  this 
Veronica;  it  certainly  suffers  from  the  drought,  turning 
rusty  in  its  nether  parts,  and  yet  seems  to  want  a  full 
view  of  the  sun  for,  planted  in  shade,  it  languishes  im- 
mediately. A  rich  retentive  soil  seems  to  bring  it  to 
fullest  perfection,  and  it  more  than  repays  any  trouble 
bestowed  upon  it.  A  little  bone  meal  dug  in  about  its 
roots  in  May  strengthens  its  growth  and  seems  to  im- 
prove the  colour  of  its  flower  spikes.  I  have  not  been 
able  to  raise  this  plant  from  seed,  but  it  is  easily  increased 
by  division  of  the  roots  in  spring  or  by  soft  cuttings.  I 
should  advise  planting  it  in  spring  as  it  is  important  that 
it  should  be  well  established  before  winter. 

The  Platycodons  are  closely  connected  with  the 
house  of  Campanula.  There  are  only  three  kinds 
in  cultivation  and  they  are  easily  raised  from  seed. 
P.  grandiflorum  grows  about  two  feet  high  and  bears 
many  widely  spreading  steel-blue  bells.  The  lovely 
white  var.  album  is  faintly  lined  with  blue  and  always 
makes  me  think  of  the  fresh  blue  and  white  aprons  of 
little  girls.  The  flowers  of  P.  Mariesi  are  a  somewhat 
less  clouded  blue  and  the  plant  is  dwarf  and  compact. 

Chinese  Bellflowers  have  a  disadvantage  in  the  brittle- 
ness  of  their  stems.  After  a  heavy  rain  they  will  be 
found  flat  upon  the  ground  never  to  rise  again,  and 


JULY  PROBLEMS  111 

they  are  difficult  to  support  inconspicuously  by  the 
ordinary  method  of  stake  and  raffia.  I  grow  mine  in 
good-sized  clumps  and  stick  stout,  widely  spread  pieces 
of  pea-brush  about  among  them.  This  is  the  most 
satisfactory  method,  for  it  allows  some  of  the  stems  to 
fall  forward  a  little,  giving  to  the  clump  an  agreeable 
rounded  outline.  The  thick  fleshy  root  of  the  Platy- 
codon  seems  to  enable  it  to  ignore  the  drought,  and  its 
clean-cut,  fresh-coloured  blossoms  are  always  a  pleasant 
sight  in  the  garden. 

The  beautiful  family  of  Aconites  I  always  hesitate  to 
recommend  as  the  whole  plant  is  very  poisonous  when 
eaten  and,  where  there  are  children,  might  prove  a 
serious  danger.  My  own  children  know  it  well  and  its 
deadly  consequences  and  avoid  it  assiduously.  The 
fact  that  they  are  tall  plants  suitable  for  the  back 
of  the  border  makes  it  possible  to  put  them  pretty 
well  out  of  reach,  and  they  are  among  the  most  beau- 
tiful of  the  flowers  blooming  in  mid-summer  and  au- 
tumn. They  have  long  been  among  garden  flowers; 
the  old  gardeners,  Parkinson  and  Gerarde,  give  long 
lists  of  sorts,  interspersing  their  admiring  descriptions 
with  illustrated  warnings  of  the  dire  results  of  eating 
any  part  of  the  plant.  Gerarde  writes  of  A.  Napellus: 
"this  kinde  of  Wolfesbane,  called  Napellus  vernus,  in 
English,  Helmet-flowers,  or  the  Great  Monkshood 
beareth  very  faire  and  goodly  blew  flowres  in  shape 
like  an  helmet,  which  are  so  beautiful  that  a  man  would 


MY  GARDEN 

thinke  they  were  of  some  excellent  vertue — but,  non 
est  semper  fides  habenda  fronti."  The  foliage  is 
beautiful  and  shining,  "much  spread  abroad  and 
cut  into  many  flits  and  notches."  The  flowering  of 
Aconites  covers  a  long  period.  The  earliest  here  is  a 
clouded  blue  sort  with  shining  foliage  which  came  to  me 
as  A.  tauricum.  It  blooms  in  late  June  and  July  and 
is  not  more  than  three  feet  high.  This  was  the  first 
Aconite  I  grew,  and,  after  reading  the  early  herbalists, 
my  mind  was  rather  filled  with  the  evil  reputation  of  the 
plant  so,  when  an  army  of  little  wicked-looking  black 
toadstools  appeared  over  night  about  the  beautiful 
plant,  it  seemed  most  fitting — like  an  evil  spirit  and  his 
minions.  The  Napellus  varieties,  the  dark  blue,  pure 
white,  and  most  of  all,  the  bicolour,  are  all  lovely  and 
graceful  plants  growing  about  five  feet  tall  and  blooming 
through  mid-summer.  A.  Wilsoni  and  Spark's  variety 
are  magnificent  plants  growing  five  or  six  feet  high  and 
bearing  their  spikes  of  rich-coloured  hooded  flowers  in 
August  and  September.  A.  Fischeri  is  a  clear  blue  sort 
not  more  than  two  feet  high,  which  bridges  the  time  be- 
tween Wilsoni  and  the  October  blooming  A.  autumnale. 
There  are  two  yellow-flowered  sorts,  lycoctonum  and 
pyrenaicum,  two  and  four  feet  high  respectively,  which 
bloom  in  August  and  September. 

The  Aconites  are  impatient  of  a  dry  soil,  so  it  should 
be  rich  and  retentive.  A  north  border  suits  them  very 
well  as  they  enjoy  some  shade,  and  they  should  be  taken 


JULY  PROBLEMS  113 

up  and  divided  about  every  three  years.  I  am  very 
fond  of  a  group  of  A.  Napellus  var.  bicolour  and  Tiger 
Lilies  which  fills  the  angle  made  by  the  high  wall  and 
the  garden  house.  The  clean  blue  and  white  of  these 
Aconites  accompanies  well  the  strange  tawny  hue  worn 
by  the  Tiger  Lilies  and,  lower  down,  a  fine  group  of  pure 
orange  Bateman's  Lily,  growing  behind  the  spreading 
light-green  foliage  of  Funkia  subcordata,  completes  a 
good  north  border  group.  They  are  also  fine  with  the 
Phloxes — pink  and  white  and  scarlet. 

One  would  not  willingly  do  without  the  beautiful 
Monkshoods,  so  valuable  are  they  in  the  summer  and 
autumn  gardens;  but,  in  all  our  dealings  with  this 
"venomous  and  naughty  herb,"  it  is  well  to  remember 
the  terse  warning  of  Dodoens  that  it  is  "very  hurtful  to 
man's  nature  and  killeth  out  of  hand." 

Eryngiums,  or  Sea  Hollies,  are  plants  of  great  interest 
and  beauty,  their  silvery  stems  and  foliage  and  deep- 
blue  globular  flower  heads  creating  an  unusually  lovely 
effect.  They  are  easily  raised  from  seed  and  seem  to 
take  kindly  to  any  soil  in  a  sunny  situation.  E.  mariti- 
mum,  the  true  Sea  Holly,  is  a  low-growing  plant  for  the 
front  of  the  border  with  large  glaucous  foliage.  E. 
alpinum  and  Oliverianum,  two  and  one-half  and  three 
feet  in  height,  with  rich  blue  flower  heads,  are  the  best,  I 
think,  though  planum,  bearing  an  immense  quantity  of 
small  blue  flowers  and  amethystinum,  more  gray  than 
blue,  are  both  extremely  good.  Their  subdued  and 


114  MY  GARDEN 

charming  colour  scheme  enables  us  to  use  them  with 
many  flowers  of  their  day.  Most  interesting  are  they 
with  the  Aconites  and  blue  Veronicas,  with  Tiger  Lilies 
or  flame-coloured  Phlox.  With  all  the  pink  Phloxes 
they  are  lovely,  but  with  the  delicate  Mme.  Paul  Dutre 
they  produce  a  particularly  charming  harmony. 

Somewhat  resembling  the  Sea  Hollies  are  the  Globe 
Thistles  (Echinops)  of  which  E.  Ritro,  three  feet,  and 
bannaticus,  five  feet,  are  good  representatives.  Both 
have  metallic  blue,  thistle-like  flowers  and  glaucous 
foliage.  These  may  be  used  in  the  same  colour  combi- 
nations as  the  Sea  Hollies  and  are  as  useful. 

A  beautiful  and  little  used  native  plant  of  late  July 
is  the  Rose  Loosestrife,  Lythrum  Salicaria  var.  rosea 
superba.  It  is  a  tall  plant,  four  feet  in  height,  carrying 
its  leafy  branches  erectly  and  bearing  at  the  top  of  each 
a  long  spike  of  rose  or,  perhaps  one  should  admit, 
magenta  flowers.  But  no  one  need  hold  aloof  from  what 
they  are  pleased  to  call  "  that  fighting  colour,"  for  it  is  so 
frank  and  clean  and  splendid  in  this  plant  that  it  can 
but  win  admiration  and  respect.  Pale,  ivory-coloured 
Hollyhocks  are  charming  in  its  neighbourhood,  and 
such  buff -coloured  Gladioli  as  Isaac  Buchanan.  White 
Phlox  and  garnet  Hollyhocks  become  it  well,  and  a 
daring  but  successful  association  for  it  is  strong  blue 
Monkshood  and  blue-green  Rue.  It  is  not  a  plant 
which  requires  frequent  division,  but  it  desires  a  deep, 
retentive  soil  and  a  sunny  situation. 


CHAPTER  SEVEN 

WANING   SUMMER 

"A  something  in  a  summer's  day, 
As  slow  its  flambeaux  burn  away 
Which  solemnizes  me." 

— Emily  Dickenson. 

THIS,  August,  is  the  month,  when,  if  ever,  the 
gardener  may  claim  a  well-earned  rest.  The 
vigorous  determination  of  weeds  seems  some- 
what daunted,  staking  is,  or  should  be,  done,  all  "bed- 
ding out"  is  accomplished,  and  there  is  little  to  do  save 
watering  and  cultivating  and  the  occasional  guidance  of 
the  seeking,  reaching  arms  of  climbing  Roses  and  other 
vines.  Of  course,  the  aster  beetle  may  have  arrived  in 
staggering  hordes,  moles  may  be  tunnelling  imperturb- 
ably  beneath  one's  most  precious  plants,  or  the  garden 
may  be  drying  up  in  the  fierce  clutches  of  relentless 
drought — any  of  which  misfortunes  would  keep  one 
busy.  But  these  are  not  certainties,  and  ordinarily  one 
may  spend  a  good  deal  of  time  wandering  about  the 
garden,  dreaming  dreams  of  future  improvement  or  just 
idly  enjoying  the  fruits  of  one's  labours.  Strange  to 
say,  it  is  the  time  when  I  enjoy  the  garden  least.  I  do 

not  quite  like  this  feeling  that  my  plants  are  not  so  de- 
ns 


116  MY  GARDEN 

pendent  upon  me  and  that  if  I  should  leave  them  for  a 
while  they  would  do  very  well  until  I  got  back.  I  miss 
the  incentive  of  the  crowded  days  of  early  spring  and  am 
apt  to  wax  over-critical  of  my  garden  and  dissatisfied 
with  my  efforts  to  make  it  beautiful.  Now  is  perhaps 
the  one  time  of  the  year  when  we  are  able  to  survey  the 
garden  with  the  cold  eye  of  a  visitor  and  see  just  what  is 
wrong,  and  it  is  well  that  such  a  pause  should  be  forced 
upon  us,  else  we  should  never  improve  our  gardens.  The 
fall  bulb  lists  are  arriving  and  the  spring  pictures  should 
be  restudied  and  bulbs  added  to  any  parts  of  the  garden 
that  we  remember  as  having  lacked  colour  in  the  spring. 
Now  is  the  time  to  order  and  set  out  the  scaly  bulbs  that 
mean  shimmering  white  lilies  in  June  and  July,  and 
also  those  small  bulbs,  so  graciously  inexpensive,  that 
promise  us  ranks  of  gay  Spanish  Iris. 

Nowadays  the  garden  is  riotous  with  annuals,  if  we 
have  allowed  many  of  them  in,  and  many  of  July's 
flowers  are  still  making  a  brave  show.  Among  these  are 
Hollyhocks,  Moonpenny  Daisies,  Mulleins,  Loosestrife, 
Monkshood,  Veronicas,  Tiger  Lilies,  Globe  Thistles,  Sea 
Hollies,  and  Anthemis,  but  the  dominant  figure  of  the 
August  garden  is  the  Phlox. 

This  plant  is  a  native,  and  with  true  American  per- 
spicacity and  enterprise  has  forged  his  way  from 
magenta  obscurity  to  the  most  prominent  place  in  the 
floral  world.  The  Phlox,  in  the  words  of  the  catalogu- 
ist,  is  certainly  "the  grandest,  hardy  perennial,"  bril- 


WANING  SUMMER  117 

liant,  easy  to  manage,  self-supporting,  quickly  in- 
creased, fragrant,  and  beautiful.  No  plant,  known  to 
me,  makes  such  solid  colour  masses  or  is  more  orderly  and 
upright  in  its  habit.  It  usually  enjoys  the  best  of 
health,  and  I  know  of  only  one  disease  which  attacks  it 
and  this  is  not  usual;  it  is  fungous  in  character  and  is 
more  apt  to  attack  the  plants  in  low,  damp  situations. 
The  old  purple  parent  of  the  gorgeous  modern  Phloxes 
will  grow  and  thrive  in  any  situation,  but  the  modern 
beauties  need  good  rich  food  and  water  in  dry  weather  if 
they  are  to  develop  their  huge  flower  heads  to  anything 
like  the  size  we  are  encouraged  to  expect.  A  dry  poor 
soil  is  no  place  for  them,  but  they  do  very  well  in  partial 
shade.  Bone  meal  and  superphosphate  may  be  used  to 
strengthen  the  plants  and  round  out  the  great  flower 
heads.  They  may  be  planted  either  in  spring  or  fall, 
but  I  have  had  the  best  results  from  early  fall  planting 
as  this  allows  the  plant  to  become  established  before 
summer  droughts  which  are  very  hard  upon  newly 
planted  stock.  Old  plants  need  to  be  broken  up  and  re- 
planted about  every  third  year  and  the  faded  blossoms 
should  be  cut  off  before  seed  forms,  as  seedlings  become 
a  real  pest,  seldom  coming  true  to  the  colour  of  the 
parent  and  usually  exhibiting  strong  magenta  traits 
which  prevent  their  living  in  amity  with  their  blood  re- 
lations. Phloxes,  nowadays,  show  many  fine  colours: 
all  shades  of  pink,  scarlet,  cerise,  lavender  and  purple, 
and  white,  with  or  without  a  pink  eye.  If  more  than 


118  MY  GARDEN 

one  variety  is  to  be  used  in  a  group  careful  study  of  the 
colours  is  advised  either  in  a  nearby  nursery  or  by  buy- 
ing one  each  of  a  number  of  kinds,  for  some  of  the  pinks 
and  scarlets  and  lavenders  are  badly  opposed  to  each 
other,  while  others  blend  charmingly. 

Each  year  many  novelties  with  alluring  descriptions 
are  introduced,  but  the  list  below  is  chosen  from  those 
of  tested  worth: 


Aurore — salmon-scarlet — purple  eye 3    feet 

America — salmon-pink — deeper  eye 2j 

Africa — dark  cherry  colour 2j     " 

Albion — creamy- white — pink  eye 2|    " 

Antonin  Mercie — white — lilac  margin 3 

Baron  Van  Dedem — bright  scarlet 2      " 

Coquelicot — orange-scarlet 2 

Count  Von  Hochberg — maroon 3      " 

Eclaireur — carmine  shading  to  cream 3 

Elizabeth  Campbell — salmon  shading  to  pink  .  2 

Eugene  Danzanvilliers — lilac — white  eye 3 

Etna — orange-scarlet 3 

Frau  Anton  Buchner — pure  white 3 

G.  H.  Strohlein — orange  scarlet — carmine  eye  .  3j 

Hanny  Pfleiderer — cream,  changing  to  salmon      ...  3 

Javanaise — white — lilac  edge 4 

Mad.  Paul  Dutrie — pale  pink — white  centre   ....  3 

Mrs.  Oliver — salmon — light  eye 2? 

Rijnstroom — rich  salmon 2| 

Siebold — orange-scarlet — dark  eye 3 

Mrs.  Jenkins — pure  white 3 

Gen.  Van  Heutsz — salmon-red — white  eye       ....  3 

Peachblow — exquisite  pink .3 

Tapis  Blanc — pure  white 2 

Wm.  Robinson — salmon — violet  centre 4 


WANING  SUMMER  119 

The  best  of  the  July-blooming  Phloxes  (which  belong 
to  the  Suffruticosa  group)  is  Miss  Lingard,  white  with 
pale  eye. 

An  important  new  race  of  Phloxes  has  been  recently 
introduced,  called  P.  Arendsi.  They  are  the  result  of 
a  cross  between  the  charming  P.  divaricata  and  P.  de- 
cussata.  The  plants  are  of  strong  branching  habit,  from 
one  to  two  feet  tall,  and  bloom  the  latter  part  of  May. 
The  flowers  are  large  and  the  colour — frequently  that  of 
the  lovely  P.  divaricata — clear  lilac. 

Sea  Hollies  and  Globe  Thistles  are  particularly  ef- 
fective with  the  August-flowering  Phloxes,  and  another 
plant  happy  with  the  pink  and  salmon  sorts  is  Clematis 
davidiana,  with  opaque  lavender  blossoms,  which  last  a 
long  time  in  good  condition.  The  great  Sea  Lavender, 
Statice  latifolia,  with  its  huge  heads  of  mauve-coloured, 
mistlike  bloom,  is  lovely  with  P.  Mad.  Paul  Dutrie,  or 
Mrs.  Oliver.  This  Sea  Lavender  grows  about  two  feet 
high,  sending  up  its  flower  spikes  from  a  tuft  of  rather 
coarse  leaves.  It  requires  a  rich  soil,  and  frequent  di- 
vision is  neither  necessary  nor  desirable. 

Groups  of  white  and  lavender  Phlox  are  much  im- 
proved by  sheaves  of  flaming  Montbretias,  or  orange- 
scarlet  Snapdragons.  The  gray-f  oliaged  plants  are  lovely 
with  groups  of  pink  and  scarlet  Phloxes,  and  many 
other  harmonious  associations  will  suggest  themselves 
to  the  designer  of  August  pictures. 

The  great  mass  of  summer  and  autumn  flowering 


120  MY  GARDEN 

plants  belong  to  the  natural  order  Compositae— -that  is, 
having  a  mass  of  tiny  florets  crowded  together  in  the 
centre  and  surrounded  by  an  involucre,  as  in  the  field 
daisy,  and  as  these  flowers  are  all  very  similar  in  form,  in 
spite  of  variations  in  colour,  the  garden  is  apt  to  be  less 
varied  and  interesting  at  this  season  unless  we  are 
careful  not  to  let  the  composites  predominate.  Their 
flowers  lack  the  charm  and  suggestion  which  we  find  in 
those  of  more  irregular  design,  and  many  of  the  plants 
are  weedy  and  gawky  in  habit,  so  that  intelligent 
selection  should  be  made  from  the  long  lists  of  Rud- 
beckias,  Heleniums,  Helianthuses,  Pyrethrums,  Asters, 
Boltonias,  and  Chrysanthemums  offered  us  in  the  cata- 
logues. 

Of  the  Rudbeckias  I  think  R.  Newmani  is  perhaps  the 
most  useful.  It  grows  about  two  feet  tall  and  bears  in 
great  profusion  throughout  the  summer  and  fall  large 
daisylike  flowers,  like  Black-eyed  Susans,  with  a  dark 
cone  in  the  centre.  This  plant  suffers  in  dry  weather 
and  likes  a  retentive  soil  or  shade  for  part  of  the  day. 
R.  laciniata,  fl.  pi.,  better  known  as  Golden  Glow,  has 
long  been  banished  from  our  garden  enclosure,  though 
the  blossoms  are  pretty  and  good  for  cutting.  The 
plant  is  long-legged,  gawky,  and  weak-kneed,  and  it 
spreads  rapidly  without  encouragement  and  frequently 
quite  swallows  up  its  neighbours.  The  purple  Cone 
flower,  Rudbeckia  purpurea,  or  Echinacea  purpurea  as  it 
is  correctly  called,  is  also  a  very  good  plant  and  much 


WANING  SUMMER 

more  tolerant  of  drought  than  Newmani.  It  grows 
about  four  feet  tall  and  bears  large  blossoms  of  a  curious 
dead  pink,  with  a  protruding  golden-brown  cone.  This 
plant  is  rather  hard  to  associate  well  and  I  feel  that  full 
justice  is  not  given  it  here,  though  the  fleecy  bloom  of 
Polygonum  compaction  and  masses  of  blue-green  Rue, 
which  are  its  neighbours,  are  very  good  with  it.  It  is 
rather  a  sombre-looking  plant,  but  as  desirable  for  its 
good  habits  and  long  period  of  bloom  as  for  its  numer- 
ous dull-pink  flowers. 

The  Sunflowers,  Helianthus,  are  conspicuous  mem- 
bers of  both  annual  and  perennial  garden  society  at  this 
season,  but  there  are  only  a  few  which  seem  to  me  to 
have  any  great  attraction,  save  in  half-wild  places. 
Their  roots  are  most  unrestrained  and  one  must  ever  be 
weeding  them  out.  To  one  sort,  however,  I  can  give  the 
most  enthusiastic  praise — Helianthus  multiflorusfl.  pi., 
which  grows  about  five  feet  high,  is  compact  and  con- 
trolled as  to  growth,  has  rich,  dark  foliage  and  many 
golden  globes  of  bloom.  It  makes  a  good  background 
for  the  heavy-headed  white  Phlox,  and  before  its  season 
closes  the  earlier  hardy  Asters  colour  effectively  in  its 
neighbourhood.  There  is  a  variety  called  Soleil  d'Or 
which  is  also  a  splendid  plant,  with  the  same  firm,  com- 
pact habit  and  rich  orange-yellow,  double  flowers.  I 
do  not  care  much  for  the  single-flowered  Sunflowers, 
though  Miss  Mellish  is  a  good  sort.  However,  she 
grows  nine  feet  tall  in  our  garden  in  her  determination 


MY  GARDEN 

to  see  over  the  wall,  and  her  surprising  length  is  too 
scantily  clothed  for  beauty.  H.  mollis  is  a  pretty  good 
Sunflower,  of  more  moderate  height,  and  bears  large 
yellow  flowers,  which  contrast  pleasantly  with  the 
grayish  foliage. 

The  Heleniums  or  Sneezeweeds  are,  as  a  class,  better 
than  the  Sunflowers.  Indeed  some  of  them  are  very 
beautiful  with  their  flowers  of  Indian-red,  russet,  and 
gold.  I  know  of  few  late  flowers  more  effective  than  H . 
Striatum  var.  autumnale  rubrum,  in  its  rich  autumn 
colouring.  Riverton  Gem  also  has  this  rich  colouring, 
and  both  are  most  effective  in  bold  groups  against  a  wall 
covered  with  Clematis  panticulata  and  with  masses  of 
lavender  and  purple  hardy  Asters  as  neighbours.  H. 
Riverton  Beauty  has  rays  of  pure  lemon-yellow  with  a 
purple-black  disc.  These  all  grow  from  four  feet  to  five 
feet  tall  and  form  strong,  bushy  clumps  of  good  up- 
standing habit,  which  require  frequent  division.  There 
is  a  form  called  H.  pumilum  var.  magnificum,  which  is 
much  dwarfer,  growing  only  about  eighteen  inches  tall 
and  bearing  yellow  flowers.  H.  Hoopesii  starts  to 
bloom  late  in  June,  but  I  think  that  in  this  month  of 
rare  and  exquisite  flowers  we  have  no  need  of  the 
coarser  bloom  of  the  Heleniums.  The  Heleniums  asso- 
ciate well  together  and  with  most  of  the  warm-toned 
flowers  of  the  late  summer  and  autumn,  such  as  Mari- 
golds, Snapdragons,  Gladiolus  brenchleyensis,  Tritomas, 
hardy  Asters,  and  others. 


WANING  SUMMER  123 

Pyretkrum  uliginosum  is  one  of  the  valuable  com- 
posites of  the  later  summer.  It  grows  four  to  five  feet 
tall  and  forms  fine,  erect  clumps,  bearing  quantities  of 
white  daisylike  flowers  over  a  period  of  several  weeks. 
It  is  fine  as  a  background  for  pink  and  lavender  Phlox. 
A  charming  group  here  is  made  up  of  this  Pyrethrum, 
Phlox  Elizabeth  Campbell  and  Clematis  davidiana. 
Early  bloomers  among  the  hardy  Asters,  such  as  A. 
Amellus  var.  Beaute  Parfait,  elegans,  or  Perry's  Favour- 
ite, are  also  good  in  association  with  the  Pyrethrum.  It 
is  unnecessary  to  devise  associations  for  this  good  plant, 
for  once  in  the  garden  a  need  for  its  sturdy  growth, 
clean  foliage,  and  dense  masses  of  bloom  makes  itself 
felt  in  many  quarters,  and  we  are  glad  that  it  may  be  in- 
creased so  generously  by  division. 

The  Boltonias  are  also  tall  plants,  which  bear  small 
daisylike  flowers,  some  white  and  some  pink.  But, 
while  its  masses  of  bloom  are  effective,  the  plants  grow 
rather  too  tall  and  leggy  and  are  very  difficult  to  stake. 
We  put  stout  Dahlia  stakes  through  the  clumps,  making 
a  sort  of  web  of  cord  from  stake  to  stake,  as  when  tied 
tightly  to  the  stakes  the  effect  is  very  stiff  and  ungrace- 
ful. There  is  a  lower  growing  form  called  nana,  which 
is  a  better  plant  for  small  gardens  and  narrow  borders 
than  the  tall  B.  latisquama  and  asteroides.  Groups  of 
tall  pink  Phlox,  gray-leaved  Elymus  glauca,  and  hazy 
Sea  Lavender  are  good  in  front  of  the  Boltonias,  and  they 
also  lend  themselves  pleasantly  to  the  companionship  of 


124  MY  GARDEN 

the  early  hardy  Asters  and  Sunflowers.  The  spreading 
proclivities  of  this  plant  are  a  drawback,  but  it  is  easily 
gotten  rid  of  and  I  have  come  to  the  point  when  I  can 
callously  pull  it  out  and  throw  it  away. 

A  beautiful  though  rather  coarse-growing  composite 
of  the  late  summer  is  Vernonia  arkansana,  tall  and 
strong  and  gorgeously  magenta  as  to  its  great  flower 
heads.  The  everyday  name  of  this  plant  is  Ironweed, 
and  a  low-growing  form  is  wild  about  here,  creating  a 
splendid  glow  over  the  damp,  rocky  meadows  in  August 
and  September.  In  borders  where  there  is  room  for 
it  Polygonum  compaction,  with  cream-coloured,  fleecy 
flowers,  is  a  good  companion  for  the  Ironweed,  but  the 
great  Polygonum  is  such  an  indomitable  spreader  that 
it  should  be  admitted  with  caution.  Groups  of  Kansas 
Gay  Feather  (Liatris  pychnostachya)  are  pretty  rising 
from  among  bushes  of  Rue  or  Lavender  Cotton.  Their 
colour  is  certainly  magenta,  but  these  flowers  are  very 
graceful  and  effective,  and  if  carefully  companioned  the 
colour  is  no  drawback  but  very  beautiful.  The  Gay 
Feathers  like  a  dry  soil  and  full  sunshine;  in  rich,  heavy 
soils  they  are  short  lived.  The  before-mentioned  one  is 
the  better,  but  two  others,  L.  spicata  and  scariosa,  are 
similar  and  serve  to  prolong  the  blooming  season.  From 
a  tuft  of  leaves  these  plants  send  up  wandlike  stems, 
about  four  feet  in  height,  feathered  with  delicate  foliage 
and  terminating  in  a  spike  of  bloom  about  ten  inches 
long.  It  is  one  of  those  plants,  like  Lilies  and  Asphodels, 


WANING  SUMMER  125 

which  need  the  foliage  of  other  plants  to  make  up  for  its 
too  scanty  leafage. 

Pink  and  white  Mallows  are  conspicuous  in  the  late 
summer  and  autumn  garden.  They  are  easily  raised 
from  seed,  and  in  deep,  rich  soil  will  grow  in  to  fine  spread- 
ing clumps.  The  old  sweet,  white  Day  Lily  (Funkia 
subcordata) ,  with  its  beautiful,  spreading,  pale-green 
foliage  and  gleaming  lilylike  blooms,  should  be  found 
shining  in  every  August  garden.  It  has  long  been  a 
favourite,  and  is  one  of  the  few  flowers  of  this  season 
which  is  rich  in  association  and  tradition.  It  is  not  so 
much  used  nowadays,  save  F.  Sieboldiana,  which  is 
valued  for  the  metallic  gleam  of  its  great  leaves,  and 
one  sees  F.  lancifolia,  in  its  variety  ablo-marginata,  or 
variegata,  frequently  edging  the  borders  in  cottage 
gardens.  I  am  very  fond  of  the  Corfu  Lily  (F.  sub- 
cordata) and  like  to  coddle  it  a  bit,  giving  it  the  richest, 
dampest  soil  at  my  command.  In  the  Iris  Bed,  about 
the  little,  ever-overflowing  pool,  it  reaches  a  great  state 
of  happy  luxuriance,  sending  up  countless  spikes  of  sweet 
white  flowers,  seeming  to  belong  to  a  simpler  age  than 
ours.  The  broad,  lasting  foliage  of  this  plant  and  Sie- 
boldiana is  of  great  value  in  the  garden  from  the  time 
of  its  rather  late  appearance  in  spring.  In  these  days 
when  we  do  not  plant  haphazard  any  plant  which  strikes 
our  fancy  in  any  spot  which  happens  to  be  empty, 
but  consider,  not  only  the  effect  of  its  colour  upon  its 
neighbours,  but  the  effect  of  its  habit  and  form  in  the 


126  MY  GARDEN 

general  arrangement,  such  well-rounded,  orderly  plants 
as  the  Funkias  should  be  more  used  than  they  are. 

An  attractive  August  group  is  composed  of  Artemisia 
lactiflora  and  Salvia  azurea  var.  grandiflora,  growing  in 
deep,  rich  soil.  The  former  is  a  plant  of  compara- 
tively recent  introduction  and  is  of  real  value.  It  bears 
heads  of  creamy  blossoms  and  grows  about  four  feet 
high.  It  is  not  so  rampant  a  grower  as  most  of  its 
family,  and  I  have  lost  several  plants,  I  think,  from  win- 
ter killing.  The  Salvia  is  one  of  the  prettiest  orna- 
ments of  the  late  summer,  but  is  so  difficult  to  maintain 
in  an  upright  position  that  I  am  often  tempted  to  do 
without  its  heavenly  colour.  Its  wandlike  stems  are  so 
slender  as  to  be  entirely  unable  to  uphold  themselves, 
and  when  tied  to  a  stake  the  plant  loses  all  grace. 
Young  plants  seem  to  stand  up  a  little  better,  and  as  the 
Salvia  is  a  free  seeder  there  are  usually  plenty  of  these. 


CHAPTER  EIGHT 

AUTUMN   BEAUTY 

Gather  ye  roses  while  you  may, 

Old  time  is  still  a-flying, 
And  this  same  flower  that  smiles  to-day 

To-morrow  will  be  dying. 

— Herrick. 

THE  first  two  weeks  of  September  are  very 
like  August,  both  in  bloom  and  in  weather. 
Save  for  Michaelmas  Daisies  there  are  few 
flowers  peculiar  to  this  period,  but  if  the  season  has  not 
been  too  dry  Phloxes  will  still  be  hi  fine  colour,  the 
second  flowering  of  Delphiniums  at  its  height,  and  all 
the  host  of  Boltonias,  Pyre  thrums,  Heleniums,  Helian- 
thuses,  and  Rudbeckias  making  a  rich  display,  while  the 
annuals  indulge  in  the  maddest  gayety  as  their  season 
draws  to  its  close.  Groups  of  garnet-jewelled  speciosum 
Lilies  here  and  there  in  the  borders  lend  a  touch  of 
elegance  and  distinction  to  the  garden,  and  the  cool 
nights  and  heavy  dews  have  incited  the  Mallows  to 
larger  and  finer  results  in  their  great  silken  blossoms. 
Nepeta,  the  invaluable,  blooms  again  with  delicate  en- 
thusiasm. Indeed,  it  has  never  ceased  to  bloom  en- 
tirely, but  the  cooler  weather  has  started  it  off  afresh, 

127 


128  MY  GARDEN 

and  where  it  fringed  the  top  of  the  low,  retaining  walls  in 
May,  it  now  hangs  in  soft-coloured  mats  and  festoons  to 
the  bottom.  How  delightful  has  been  this  Nepeta  all 
through  the  season.  Pale  Daffodils  and  pink  and 
mauve  Tulips  pierced  in  succession  its  pleasant  mat  of 
gray  foliage;  later  China  Roses  and  white  Lilies  were 
charming  with  it,  and  now  the  long  arms  of  purple 
Asters  are  flung  across  it  in  assured  harmony,  and  the 
Showy  Stonecrop,  Sedum  spectabile,  finds  a  happy 
setting  for  its  strange  pink  blossoms. 

The  hardy  Aster  or  Michaelmas  Daisy  is,  of  course, 
the  important  flower  of  the  month,  and  lovely  and  in- 
valuable it  is,  though  I  find  it  not  in  many  a  good  gar- 
den. Because  it  grows  in  cloudlike  masses  by  the  dusty 
roadsides,  mingling  happily  with  the  Golden  Rod  and 
Ferns,  many  do  not  look  upon  it  seriously  as  a  garden 
flower.  And  it  is  from  these  same  wild  forms  that  the 
fine  garden  sorts  now  to  be  had  have  been  developed. 
No  flower  adds  so  much  to  the  beauty  and  grace  of  the 
autumn  garden  as  this,  and  I  should  like  to  root  out  all 
the  Cannas  and  Salvias,  so  blatant  in  many  a  fine  garden 
at  this  season,  and  fill  their  places  with  a  tide  of  tender 
colour  and  graceful  growth  so  generously  furnished 
by  the  Michaelmas  Daisies.  All  shades  of  lavender, 
mauve,  and  purple  are  to  be  had,  besides  pinkish  tones, 
blush  and  pure  white,  in  plants  which  are  from  one  foot 
to  six  feet  in  height  and  which  exhibit  many  delightful 
variations  in  form  and  habit.  The  blooming  of  the 


GROUPS  OF  GARNET-JEWELLED  SPECIOSUM  LILIES  HERE  AND  THERE  IN  THE 
BORDERS  LEND  A  TOUCH  OF  ELEGANCE  AND  DISTINCTION  TO  THE  GARDEN" 


AUTUMN  BEAUTY  129 

various  sorts  covers  a  long  period,  from  August  until 
November,  but  September  is  their  festival  month. 
They  adapt  themselves  with  supreme  grace  to  any  sort 
of  gardening,  and  it  would  be  difficult  to  know  how  to 
make  an  autumn  garden  beautiful  without  their  aid. 
Borders  made  up  almost  entirely  of  these  flowers  are 
very  lovely  if  one's  garden  is  large  enough  to  permit  any 
part  of  it  being  given  up  to  a  single  season.  I  saw  many 
such  borders  splendidly  carried  out  in  England  and  in 
Scotland.  The  gray-foliage  plants,  Lyme  Grass,  Lav- 
ender Cotton,  Artemisias,  Nepeta,  and  Stachys  lanata 
are  largely  used  with  the  Michaelmas  Daisies  with  per- 
haps a  few  buff-coloured  Dahlias  and  Gladioli  and 
the  strange  mauve-pink  of  Sedum  spectabile.  Clematis 
paniculata,  grown  on  tall  pea-brush  and  cut  back  se- 
verely every  year  to  prevent  its  growing  too  rampant, 
is  lovely  grown  at  the  back  of  such  a  border  and  allowed 
to  trail  its  fleecy  bloom  and  later  its  strange,  smoky  seed 
vessels  about  over  the  soft- coloured  Asters.  The  gray- 
foliage  plants  would  need  to  be  planted  in  generous 
groups  toward  the  front  of  the  border,  with  dwarf 
Asters  in  between  and  the  wandlike  branches  of  the 
taller  kinds  brought  forward  here  and  there  and  tied  to 
low  pea-brush.  Pea-brush,  by  the  way,  is  by  far  the 
best  staking  to  use  for  these  flowers,  as  it  allows  them  to 
show  all  their  natural  grace.  We  put  the  brush  in  when 
the  plants  are  about  two  feet  tall,  arranging  the  Aster 
branches  so  as  to  make  the  brush  as  inconspicuous  as 


130  MY  GARDEN 

possible  and  later  clip  off  any  ends  which  show  after  the 
plants  have  reached  their  full  height. 

Many  varieties  of  hardy  Asters  are  offered  in  the 
catalogues  and  not  all  are  good — some  being  very  weedy 
in  character  and  poor  and  dull  in  bloom.  It  is  a  good 
plan  to  see  them  in  bloom  in  some  nursery,  if  possible, 
before  buying,  but  the  following  list,  while  not  of  the 
newest,  will  be  found  to  contain  only  very  good  sorts. 

Forms  of  Aster  Amellus  are  numerous  and  beautiful. 
They  are  among  the  earliest  to  bloom  and  range  from 
one  and  one-half  feet  to  three  feet  in  height.  The  type 
has  large  purple  flowers  and  grows  two  feet  tall: 

Aster  amellus  var.  Distinction — purple-blue — two  feet. 

"    Perry's  Favourite — reddish-pink — three  feet. 
"    Onward — deep  violet — one  and  a  half  feet. 
A.  acris — soft  blue — lovely — three  to  four  feet.    August,  Sep- 
tember. 
A.  alpinus  — bright  purple — one  foot.    All  summer. 

"       var.  albus — white — one  foot.     All  summer. 
A.  ericoides — masses  of  small  white  flowers — three  to  four  feet. 

September, 
var.  Enchantress  of  small  blush  flowers — three  to  four 

feet.     September. 
"          "    Hon.  Edith  Gibbs  of  small  lavender-gray  flowers 

— three  to  four  feet.     September. 
"          "    Hon.  Vicary  Gibbs  of  small  pinkish  mauve — two 

and  a  half  feet.     September. 
A.  grandiflorus — very  large  purple  flowers — two  feet.     October  and 

November. 
A.  laevis  var.   arcturus — purple-blue — dark-stemmed — four  feet. 

August. 
A.  novae-angliae — New  England  Aster.    Very  fine. 


AUTUMN  BEAUTY  131 

A.  novae-angliae  var.  Mrs.  J.  F.  Raynor — purplish-crimson — five 

feet.     September  and  October. 
"    Novelty — bright  mauve — three  to  four  feet. 

September  and  October. 
Ryecroft     Purple — very     conspicuous — five 

feet.     September  and  October. 
"    Wm.  Bowman — rosy-purple — four  feet.  Sep- 
tember and  October. 
A.  novie-belgii — (These  are  among  the  best.) 

var.  Beauty  of  Colwall — tender  lavender — double — 

four  to  five  feet.     September  and  October. 
"    Climax — almost  blue — four  feet.     September 

and  October. 

"    Elsie   Perry — almost  pink — three  feet.     Sep- 
tember and  October. 
F.    W.    Burbidge — rosy-lavender — four    feet. 

September  and  October. 

*'    Flossy — good  white — three  to  four  feet.     Sep- 
tember and  October. 
White  Queen — one  and  a  half  feet.    September 

and  October. 
"    Robert  Parker— lavender— four  to  five  feet. 

September  and  October. 

"    St.  Brigid— blush— four  to  five  feet.     Septem- 
ber and  October. 

Top  Sawyer — lavender — five  to  six  feet.     Sep- 
tember and  October. 

Margurite — lovely  blue — five  feet.     September 
and  October. 

Two  other  charming  Asters  of  recent  introduction  are 
Perry's  Pink — bright  rose  and  blooming  late — two  to 
three  feet,  and  St.  Egwin — pinkish-mauve — three  feet 
• — September.  This  plant  forms  finely  rounded  bushes 
covered  with  bloom.* 

*Other  valuable  sorts  are  Feltham  Blue,  Peters  White,  Mrs.  Perry  Improved, 
King  George,  Climax,  Wm.  Marshall,  Beauty  of  Ronsdorf. 


132  MY  GARDEN 

If  more  white  is  desired  among  the  Asters  Boltonias 
and  Pyrethrums  may  be  used  and  groups  of  Japanese 
Anemones. 

These  plants  are  perfectly  hardy,  coming  through  the 
coldest  winters  unharmed.  Any  garden  may  grow  them, 
for  they  require  no  special  conditions  and  will  thrive  in 
any  soil.  About  every  third  year  the  old  clumps  should 
be  broken  up  and  replanted  as  the  increase  is  rapid 
and  the  plants  become  untidy  and  unmanageable. 

Groups  of  lavender  and  purple  Asters  in  front  of  a 
wall  covered  with  warmly  coloured  Virginia  Creeper 
create  an  indescribably  rich  effect,  and  the  flaming 
Tritoma  allowed  to  pierce  a  fountainlike  mass  of  pale- 
coloured  small  flowered  sorts  is  very  magnificent. 

After  the  middle  of  September,  though  no  hint  of  the 
destroyer  is  in  the  air,  a  vague  undercurrent  of  uneasi- 
ness makes  itself  felt  in  the  garden.  The  flowers  appear 
to  redouble  their  efforts;  bloom  follows  bloom  in  anxious 
haste,  and  the  borders  look  as  if  colour  had  been  poured 
recklessly  upon  them  "from  a  beeker  of  richest  dyes." 
By  some  instinct  the  flowers  know  that  the  breath  of  the 
frost  king  is  not  far  off  and  they  desire  to  accomplish  all 
their  duty  before  it  blows  upon  them.  Perhaps  there 
will  be  one  more  week,  perhaps  two,  and  it  is  within  the 
realm  of  the  possible  that  old  November,  driving  his 
storm-steeds  and  followed  by  his  Indian  bride  blowing 
warm  breaths  from  her  scarlet  lips,  will  arrive  and  find 
the  China  Roses  still  blowing,  Dahlias  unharmed,  and 


AUTUMN  BEAUTY  133 

Honeysuckle  waving  gracious  censers  over  a  sunlit  gar- 
den. Last  year  hard  frost  held  off  so  long  that  after  the 
first  light  snowstorm  I  found  the  tearful  faces  of  pink 
Verbenas  shining  through  the  snow  and  the  heads  of 
fresh  Sweet  Alyssum  looking  as  if  they  had  donned  little 
nightcaps  vastly  becoming. 

But  we  have  not  arrived  at  this  point  yet  and  turn 
with  gratitude  to  the  groups  of  Japanese  Anemones 
which  have  begun  to  open  their  lovely  flowers.  Among 
the  strong  colours  and  coarser  growths  of  the  autumn 
garden  this  exquisite,  refined  flower  looks  as  if  it  belongs 
at  the  other  end  of  the  year  and  unfit  to  cope  with  frosts 
and  winds,  but  it  is  quite  strong  and  brave  and  will 
withstand  several  degrees  of  frost  without  flinching. 
According  to  soil  and  situation  Anemone  Japonica  will 
vary  much  as  to  height.  Well  grown,  the  flower  stems 
should  rise  three  feet,  or  more,  and  break  into  a  loose 
spray  of  lovely  blossoms,  white,  or  in  shades  of  pink  and 
rose.  I  have  had  the  best  results  with  these  flowers  in 
rich  rather  heavy  soil  and  partial  shade,  and  I  find  they 
take  a  year  or  two  to  become  sufficiently  at  home  to 
create  much  of  an  effect.  They  appear  very  late  in 
spring  so,  in  digging  about  the  borders,  care  must  be 
taken  not  to  injure  the  fleshy  roots. 

In  Mr.  H.  H.  Thomas's  book,  "The  Ideal  Garden," 
he  says:  "The  Japanese  Anemone  likes  a  shady  spot,  it 
dislikes  being  disturbed,  and  thrives  in  quite  ordinary 
soil.  The  roots  to  ck  is  woody,  and  a  large  stock  may  be 


134  MY  GARDEN 

worked  up  by  cutting  the  root  stock  into  pieces  about 
three  inches  long,  and  placing  them  in  sandy  soil  in  a 
cold  frame  in  Autumn  or  Spring.  The  pieces  of  root  are 
inserted  horizontally,  not  perpendicularly,  about  two 
inches  beneath  the  soil."  There  are  many  varieties  of 
this  charming  flower  but  none  can  compare  (in  my 
opinion)  to  the  old  white,  var.  alba,  and  to  Queen  Charlotte, 
which  has  no  peer  in  the  floral  world  for  silvery  pink  per- 
fection of  colour,  save  in  a  La  France  Rose.  The  single 
sorts  are  much  lovelier  than  those  with  an  increase  of 
petals  which  spoils  the  simplicity  and  hides  the  brush  of 
gold  in  the  centre  that  is  one  of  the  chief  charms. 

No  more  charming  association  for  Japanese  Anemones 
in  the  white  and  pale  pink  varieties  could  be  found  than 
bushes  of  metallic-leaved  Rue,  and  others  of  the  gray- 
leaved  brotherhood  are  nearly  as  good.  The  "bleak 
blue"  of  Monkshood  is  fine  with  white  Anemones,  and 
both  Aconitum  Wilsoni  and  the  later  Aconitum  autumnale 
may  be  used.  Mr.  Thomas  speaks  of  the  charm  of 
Lobelia  cardinalis  with  white  Anemones,  but  regrets  the 
lack  of  hardiness  of  the  Lobelia,  which  must  be  taken  up 
and  stored  in  the  winter.  This  we  do  not  understand,  for 
here,  where  the  mercury  falls  many  degrees  below  zero 
every  winter,  the  Cardinal  Flower  is  the  glory  of  our  wet 
meadows  and  stream  margins,  and  has  no  covering  save 
that  which  nature  provides. 

Chrysanthemum  nipponicum  is  a  Japanese  plant 
which  all  summer  long  has  been  valuable  for  its  strong, 


AUTUMN  BEAUTY  135 

rounded  bushes  and  thick,  dark  foliage.  It  grows  about 
two  and  one-half  feet  high,  and  while  its  large,  white, 
daisylike  flowers  have  the  slightly  chilled  look  common 
to  many  white  flowers  at  this  season,  it  is  still  well 
worth  having. 

This  is  a  busy  time  in  the  garden,  for  as  October 
comes  in  one  may,  with  impunity,  begin  clearing  up  a 
little,  making  over  such  beds  and  borders  as  require  it, 
dividing  the  Phloxes  and  other  hardy  things  which  are 
outgrowing  their  strength,  and  rearranging  one's  colour 
schemes.  It  is  well  to  do  as  much  of  this  sort  of  thing  as 
possible  in  the  autumn  while  defects  are  still  fresh  in 
one's  mind,  for  in  the  all-beautifying  light  of  spring  one 
is  apt  to  feel  that  perfection  is  already  an  accomplished 
fact  in  one's  garden.  Also  there  is  always  more  work  to 
be  done  in  spring  than  one  counts  upon,  and  anything 
accomplished  now  may  provide  us  with  a  breathing 
space  at  that  season  when  we  should  be  so  grateful  for 
time  to  just  sit  and  drink  in  the  loveliness  stealing  into 
the  world  around  us. 

Autumn  planting  of  perennials  is  advised  by  many 
who  are  in  a  position  to  know,  and  I  have  heard  nursery- 
men say  that  their  customers  get  more  careful  attention 
and  stronger  plants  at  this  season;  but  certainly  any 
plants  whose  absolute  hardiness  is  questioned  are  best 
set  out  in  spring,  so  that  the  strain  of  winter  will  not 
come  upon  them  before  they  are  strongly  established. 
It  is  now  that  one's  home  nursery  comes  into  important 


136  MY  GARDEN 

requisition,  for  one  may  lift  the  plants  with  good  balls  of 
earth,  so  that  the  roots  are  almost  undisturbed,  and  set 
them  down  in  their  new  homes  quite  unbeknownst  to 
themselves.  If  the  weather  has  been  dry  the  earth 
about  the  plants  should  be  well  soaked,  so  that  it  will 
adhere  to  the  roots  when  lifted. 

Snowdrops,  Scillas,  Chionodoxas,  Crocuses,  Tulips, 
Daffodils,  Iris  reticulata,  English  Iris,  Crown  Imperials, 
and  the  lesser  Fritillaries,  and  all  sorts  of  Lilies,  save 
candidum,  may  now  be  tucked  away  for  the  glorification 
of  the  coming  year.  Hardy  Roses  may  be  set  out,  and 
many  shrubs  and  trees  and  vines;  altogether,  there  is 
plenty  of  work  to  do,  and  it  is  well  there  is,  else  one  might 
grow  low-spirited  in  this  season  of  farewells  and  be  cross- 
ing the  flowerless  bridge  of  winter  before  one  has  quite 
come  to  it. 

The  autumn  Crocuses  come  every  year  as  a  surprise. 
Though  I  know  they  are  there  I  never  seem  to  quite  ex- 
pect a  Crocus  at  this  season,  and  when,  one  fine  day  in 
late  September,  I  come  suddenly  upon  a  group  of  the 
rosy-lilac  bubbles  which  mean  C.  zonatus,  poised  lightly 
above  a  gray  blanket  of  Cerastium,  it  is  always  some- 
thing of  a  shock.  Zonatus  is  a  lovely,  jewel-like  thing, 
but  said  not  to  be  quite  hardy,  so  the  Cerastium  coverlid 
is  much  to  its  mind,  and  besides  protects  its  delicate 
flowers  from  spattering  mud.  C.  spedosus  is  an  em- 
peror among  Crocuses;  its  large  blue-purple  bowl  is 
carried  on  a  long  stem  and  within  it  burns  its  flame- 


AUTUMN  BEAUTY  137 

capped  Stigmata  like  a  candle,  or  perhaps  the  torch  of 
its  hardy  little  spirit.  Speciosus  blooms  late.  It  is 
usually  well  into  October  before  I  come  upon  them, 
standing  gravely  beneath  the  Lilac  bushes,  or  piercing 
the  gray-leaved  creepers  at  the  front  of  the  Michaelmas 
Daisy  border.  Surely  there  is  much  interest  and  a 
touch  of  mystery  attached  to  these  frail  flowers  standing 
so  carelessly  at  the  gate  of  winter.  Their  nakedness — 
for  the  leaves  are  borne  in  spring  and  wither  long  before 
the  vaselike  flower  comes — adds  to  the  feeling  that  they 
are  "somehow  different,"  but  nevertheless  one  is  glad  to 
have  them — the  more  the  better.  We  have  here  only 
the  two  kinds,  but  there  are  others  which  would  be 
worth  trying:  C.  nudiflorus,  pulchellus,  iridiflorus,  can- 
cellatus,  and  sativus  are  a  few.  They  may  be  planted  in 
late  summer  and  early  autumn  and,  like  their  brothers 
at  the  other  end  of  the  year,  enjoy  a  light,  well-drained 
soil,  free  from  clay  and  manure.  A  cushion  and  cover- 
ing of  sand  is  advisable,  and  a  ground  cover  of  some 
small  creeper,  such  as  Gypsophila  repens,  Veronica  pros- 
trata,  or  Cerastium,  is  a  protection  to  their  frail  beauty. 
The  first  week  of  October  sees  many  changes  upon 
the  fair  face  of  the  garden,  and  by  the  middle  of  the 
winter  the  gay  tints  are  lowered  to  halftones  and  there  is 
little  colour,  save  here  and  there  a  sparkle  where  an 
indomitable  California  Poppy  still  blooms,  or  a  lumi- 
nous spike  of  Larkspur  reaches  skyward,  less  opulently 
clothed,  less  tall,  but  never  before  so  heavenly  blue.  It 


138  MY  GARDEN 

is  an  endearing  quality,  this  of  the  Delphiniums,  to  come 
back  at  the  very  end  of  the  season  that  we  may  carry 
the  memory  of  their  perfect  blue  through  the  lowering 
days  to  come.  Many  times,  after  very  low  temperature 
in  late  November,  I  have  gathered  a  few  of  these  azure 
wands,  still  frailer  and  more  delicately  clothed,  but 
dearer  far  than  the  great  splendid  flower  stalks  of  mid- 
summer. Dear,  too,  are  the  little  nosegays  of  China 
Roses  and  Mignonette  one  may  gather  at  this  season, 
the  sprays  of  Honeysuckle  or  the  wide-eyed  purple 
Pansies. 

There  is  not  now  that  exuberant  plenty,  with  the  re- 
sulting confusion,  which  belongs  to  mid-summer,  and 
what  flowers  there  are  stand  out  in  the  simple  autumn 
sunlight,  that  seems  to  envelop  the  world  in  a  sort  of 
luminous  sheen,  with  a  special  meaning  and  significance. 
It  is  now  that  we  are  especially  grateful  to  the  gray  and 
metallic-leaved  plants,  for  their  foliage  is  in  nowise  im- 
paired by  the  early  frosts,  and  the  sof t-hued  mounds  and 
bushes  and  trails  are  particularly  lovely  and  helpful  in 
creating  a  few  more  charming  pictures  for  us  before 
winter  claims  our  garden.  Here  a  late  pink  hardy 
Aster  trails  a  branch  across  the  Rue  bushes — there  a  few 
loose  white  rugosa  Roses  gleam  above  some  hoary 
Southernwood  bushes,  and  a  flame-coloured  Nasturtium 
has  burst  into  a  riot  of  bloom  below  the  rounds  of 
Lavender  Cotton.  In  another  part  of  the  garden  self- 
sown  pink  Snapdragons  in  the  retaining  wall  are  lovely 


AUTJJMN  BEAUTY  139 

with  the  festooning  Nepeta,  and  little  mists  of  Gyp- 
sophila  muralis  gleam  at  the  wall  foot. 

But  it  is  to  the  "bitter-sweet  Chrysanthemum"  that 
we  turn  in  these  last  days  of  the  garden's  life  with  a  feel- 
ing of  grateful  love.  Even  the  esthetic  Anemone  ja- 
ponica  must  give  way  before  the  affection  we  feel  for  this 
hardy  child,  born  of  the  sun  and  frost.  Not  the  splen- 
did creatures  one  sees  upon  the  show  bench,  or  in  the 
florist's  windows,  but  those  small,  spirited  fellows,  in 
brown  and  old  gold,  russet,  garnet,  old  pink,  and  smoky 
rose,  which  linger  to  the  very  end  in  the  garden,  the 
biting  cold  of  November  nights  seeming  merely  to  tone 
them  up  and  impart  a  defiant  quality  to  the  audacious 
little  tufts  of  colour.  Often  it  is  difficult  to  find  these 
really  old-fashioned  hardy  Chrysanthemums  in  the 
nurseries,  but  frequently,  in  driving,  or  walking  about 
the  country  in  the  autumn,  we  come  upon  them  in  the 
gardens  of  village  or  country  people.  Some  of  the  best  I 
have  were  found  in  this  way,  and  the  owners  are 
glad  to  give  a  root  or  two  which  will  quickly  spread  into 
a  fine  clump.  I  cannot  give  a  list  of  named  sorts,  for 
my  own  all  came  as  gifts.  They  love  a  warm,  sunny  sit- 
uation and  a  rich,  deep  soil,  and  if  once  or  twice  during 
the  summer  a  little  well-rotted  manure  is  dug  about  the 
roots  the  response  will  be  whole  hearted  and  generous. 
Every  year,  in  spring,  the  plants  are  best  divided  and 
the  soil  enriched  before  they  are  replanted. 


CHAPTER  NINE 

BOEDER   ROSES   AND    CLIMBERS 

"Whatso'er  of  beauty 
Yearns  and  yet  reposes, 
Blush  and  bosom  and  sweet  breath, 
Took  a  shape  in  Roses." 

— Leigh  Hunt. 

ROSE  growing  is  of  the  fine  arts;  an  art  to  which 
many  societies  owe  their  being;  to  which  many 
men  devote  their  lives;  about  which  books  are 
written  and  poets  sing.     So  great  a  subject  cannot  be 
covered  in  one  short  chapter  of  a  book  on  general  gar- 
dening. 

Dean  Hole,  in  his  deeply  appreciative,  almost  rever- 
ential, "Book  About  Roses,"  starts  his  discourse  with 
these  words:  "He  who  would  have  beautiful  Roses  in 
his  garden,  must  have  beautiful  Roses  in  his  heart.  He 
must  love  them  well  and  always.  To  win,  he  must  woo, 
as  Jacob  wooed  Laban's  daughter,  though  drought  and 
frost  consume.  He  must  have  not  only  the  glowing  ad- 
miration, the  enthusiasm,  and  the  passion,  but  the 
tenderness,  the  thoughtfulness,  the  reverence,  the 
watchfulness  of  love  .  .  .  the  cavalier  of  the  Rose 
has  semper  fidelis  upon  his  crest  and  shield."  And  the 

140 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       141 

Rose  is  a  jealous  mistress,  for  not  only  will  she  have 
the  whole  attention  of  her  lover  in  the  days  of  fulness 
and  beauty,  but  when  her  blooms  are  fled  must  she  be 
shielded  from  annoyance,  fed  and  bathed,  and  in  the 
winter  carefully  protected.  She  will  share  her  bed  with 
none,  and  indeed  she  likes  well  a  whole  garden  to  her- 
self; she  must  not  be  exposed  to  rough  winds,  she  must 
be  sheltered,  but  not  shaded,  and  "no  bough  may  darken, 
no  drip  may  saturate,  no  roots  may  rob  the  Rose." 
And  who  that  is  able  to  give  will  grudge  her  all  she  de- 
sires, for  a  Rose  garden  scrupulously  cared  for  is  a 
joy  of  joys,  and  success  with  Roses  more  flattering 
than  with  any  other  flower.  But  is  there  a  sorrier 
sight  than  a  neglected  Rose?  She  is  no  hand  at  mak- 
ing the  best  of  things:  she  must  have  all,  or  nothing; 
and  so  worthy  is  she  of  the  best  that  I  am  always 
sorry  to  see  Roses  planted  where  the  best  may  not  be 
theirs. 

All  this  may  seem  to  relegate  Roses  to  the  gardens  of 
those  with  a  staff  of  gardeners  and  a  special  Rose  garden, 
but  it  does  not.  Any  enthusiast,  high  or  low,  may  have 
the  Rose  at  her  loveliest,  if  he  take  Dean  Hole's  words 
as  his  creed,  and  studies  and  provides  for  the  needs  of 
this  fair  flower;  may  have,  I  mean,  those  beautiful,  long- 
stemmed  Roses,  known  as  Teas,  Hybrid  Teas,  and  Hy- 
brid Perpetuals,  with  whose  photographs  the  catalogues 
overflow,  and  about  whose  culture  so  many  books  have 
been  written  that  one  might  form  a  library  of  them 


142  MY  GARDEN 

alone.  But  for  us,  whose  love  and  watchfulness  must 
cover  so  many  other  flowers  and  whose  space  is  limited, 
there  are  Roses,  too,  Roses  that  will  give  of  their  sweet- 
est, tucked  in  among  the  perennials,  growing  among  the 
shrubs,  clambering  over  walls  and  trellises,  or  standing 
alone  in  long-limbed,  bountiful  beauty  beside  the  garden 
path,  and  to  such  as  these  this  chapter  is  lovingly 
dedicated. 

Many  of  these  are  Roses  of  yesterday,  old-fashioned, 
sweet-breathed,  and  simple,  which  have  modestly  given 
way  before  the  great  tide  of  modern  beauties,  retiring 
to  out-of-the-way  nooks  in  old  gardens.  Many  are  of 
more  recent  introduction,  but  have  the  unostentatious 
charm  of  those  others;  some  are  free,  wild  creatures 
brought  to  endure  garden  life  with  equanimity  but  keep- 
ing the  native  grace  of  their  former  state;  and  then  there 
are  the  splendid  host  of  climbers,  born  of  the  Polyantha, 
Wichuraiana  and  other  types,  which  increase  in  number 
and  in  beauty  with  every  year  of  work  done  by  the 
hybridizers. 

I  do  not  mean  to  imply  that  these  friendly  Roses  will 
thrive  luxuriantly  with  no  comforts  in  shallow,  poor 
soil,  or  shade;  nor  that  they  are  never  attacked  by  in- 
sect or  disease,  nor  that  they  will  smile  year  after  year 
without  attention.  No  desirable  plant  would !  But  only 
that  their  requirements  in  all  these  matters  are  much 
less  fixed  than  those  of  their  high-born  sisters,  that  they 
are  adaptable  and  not  exclusive.  For  every  kindness 


MANY  OF  THESE  ARE  ROSES  OF  YESTERDAY,  OLD-FASHIONED,  SWEET- 
BREATHED  AND  SIMPLE,  WHICH  HAVE  MODESTLY  GIVEN  WAY  BEFORE  THE 
GREAT  TIDE  OF  MODERN  BEAUTIES,  RETIRING  TO  OUT-OF-THE-WAY  NOOKS 
IN  OLD  GARDENS" 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       143 

done  them  they  thankfully  repay  us  in  greater  gifts  of 
bloom  and  sweetness. 

First  in  my  affections  come  the  old-fashioned  Roses: 

"For  the  Moss  Rose  and  the  Musk  Rose, 
Maiden's  Blush  and  royal  Dusk  Rose" 

possess  a  most  enduring  charm. 

Many  people  who  come  into  my  garden  have  never 
seen  the  old-fashioned  Roses  at  all,  so  neglected  are  they 
nowadays,  but  they  never  fail  to  win  admiration  for 
their  fine  perfume  and  beguiling  simplicity. 

The  old  Cabbage  or  Provence  Rose,  Rosa  centifolia,  is 
perhaps  the  most  beautiful,  the  most  fragrant,  and  the 
most  neglected  of  these  erstwhile  favourites.  I  re- 
member that  there  were  huge,  erect  bushes  of  both  the 
bright  pink  and  the  rarer  white  Provence  Rose  in  the 
garden  where  I  was  a  little  girl.  The  flowers  are  large 
and  full-petalled,  borne  on  long,  strong  stems,  and 
breathe  an  ineffable  fragrance  with  which  many  a 
modern  beauty  may  well  crave  to  augment  her 
charms.  The  foliage  is  a  fine  dark  green  and  the  colour 
of  the  flowers  a  splendid  and  lavish  pink.  The  white 
Provence  is  rare  and  lovely,  having  the  same  full- 
petalled  form  as  the  pink,  but  less  vigorous  in  habit  and 
in  constitution.  The  Provence  Rose  is  the  oldest  Rose 
in  cultivation,  and  its  long  past  is  an  honourable  one,  for 
it  has  ministered,  not  only  to  the  human  need  for 
beauty  for  hundreds  of  years,  but  was  ever  in  demand 
for  medicinal  purposes,  for  perfumes,  and  for  conserves. 


144  MY  GARDEN 

The  original  Moss  Rose  was  a  "sport"  or  child  of  the 
Provence.  It  seems  to  me  that  there  is  nothing  lovelier 
in  the  whole  flower  kingdom  than  a  spray  of  Moss  Rose 
buds,  yet  how  seldom  do  we  see  them  nowadays !  The 
Moss  Roses  here  are  grown  mainly  in  the  Herb  garden, 
where  the  erect  bushes  rise  from  a  tangle  of  soft-toned 
herbs  and  mingle  their  delicate  perfume  with  the  pun- 
gent breath  of  their  neighbours. 

It  is  difficult  to  improve  upon  the  Old  Pink  Moss  for 
beauty,  but  just  as  fine  are  the  other  pink  sorts:  Salet, 
Crested  Moss,  Zenobia,  and  Comtesse  de  Murinais. 
And  the  white  sorts,  with  shapely  buds  gleaming  from 
their  bright-green  garment,  seem  loveliest  of  all.  These 
are  White  Bath,  Blanche  Moreau,  and  Perpetual  Moss, 
which  blooms  in  bewitching  clusters  and  is  well  mossed. 
There  are  also  crimson  sorts,  but  these  are  not  so  lovely. 
The  best  is  Crimson  Globe. 

Moss  Roses  have  one  drawback,  their  liability  to  mil- 
dew, but  with  generous  treatment  and  a  very  little 
trouble  they  may  be  protected  from  this  affliction. 
They  should  be  planted  absolutely  free  from  shade  and 
never  against  a  wall,  that  all  the  winds  of  heaven  may 
sweep  around  them,  and  let  their  roots  be  set  in  deep, 
well-drained,  rich  soil.  In  spring,  as  soon  as  the  leaves 
appear,  dust  them  with  powdered  sulphur  and  repeat 
several  times  during  the  summer,  especially  in  "spells" 
of  damp,  sunless  weather. 

The  Damask  Rose,  with  its  large,  flat,  shining  crimson 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       145 

petals  and  central  brush  of  gold,  is  worthy  a  place  in 
every  garden.  We  have  a  hedge  of  it  in  the  Herb  gar- 
den because  it  was  so  esteemed  of  old  in  the  manufacture 
of  many  pleasant  things.  The  single  blossoms  yield  a 
rare  perfume,  and  while  the  bush  is  not  so  well  set  up  and 
sturdy  as  the  Provence  it  is  very  fine  and  glowing  in 
its  June  beneficence.  This  Rose  came  from  Syria  to 
Europe  in  the  train  of  the  Crusaders.  Of  late  years 
some  beautiful  hybrid  Damask  Roses  have  been  in- 
troduced, but  they  are  not  yet  offered  by  our  nursery- 
men, save  the  fair  Mad.  Hardy,  which  has  the  Provence 
Rose  for  its  other  parent  and  resembles  it  more  nearly. 
The  quaint  York  and  Lancaster  Rose,  with  its  im- 
partial red  and  white  stripes,  is  a  Damask  and  grows 
into  great  bushes  bearing  freely  its  fragrant  parti- 
coloured flowers;  Rosa  gallica,  the  Apothecaries  Rose,  in 
its  striped  forms,  is  often  confused  with  the  York  and 
Lancaster. 

In  the  front  yard  of  this  place,  when  we  came  here  to 
live,  we  found  thickets  of  Maiden's  Blush  Roses,  the  Rose 
of  Mrs.  Browning's  poem,  and  all  about  the  neighbour- 
hood in  the  simple  dooryards,  pressing  their  flushed 
faces  through  the  faded  palings,  are  her  sisters.  This  is 
a  variety  of  Rosa  alba,  the  White  Rose  of  old  gardens, 
which  dates  back  to  the  sixteenth  century,  and  which 
has  never  lost  its  popularity  in  rural  neighbourhoods. 
Both  aphis  and  mildew  attack  this  Rose.  We  powder 
the  bushes  well  with  hellebore  twice  before  the  leaves 


146  MY  GARDEN 

are  out  and  once  after,  and  watch  carefully  for  signs  of 
mildew,  so  that  sulphur  may  be  given  before  it  gets  a 
fair  start. 

No  discourse  upon  old-fashioned  Roses  would  be  com- 
plete without  mention  of  the  Chinas,  those  Roses  which 
in  English  gardens  grow  in  such  sweet  confusion  among 
the  Lavender  bushes.  In  this  climate  they  are  neither 
so  vigorous  nor  so  hardy,  but  we  have  carried  a  bed  of 
China  Roses  safely  through  the  past  three  winters  with 
only  a  blanket  of  stable  litter.  They  are  the  first  to 
bloom  in  late  May,  and  continue  joyously  until  the  heat 
of  mid-summer  somewhat  checks  their  ardour,  but  begin 
again  with  the  dew-bathed  nights  of  late  August,  and 
for  the  past  two  years  we  have  had  a  bowl  of  China 
Roses  for  the  dinner  table  on  Thanksgiving  Day. 

Many  lovely  varieties  have  been  raised  from  the 
original  two  brought  from  China  many  years  ago — the 
Old  Blush  Monthly  and  the  Crimson  China — and  none 
is  more  beautiful  than  those  displaying  esthetic  blend- 
ings  of  pink  and  gold,  rose  and  copper.  Of  these  are 
Laurette  Messimy,  Madame  Eugene  Resal,  Comtesse 
du  Cayla,  and  Arethusa.  Mrs.  Bosanquet  is  tender 
blush  colour,  Cramoisie  Superieur  a  fine  crimson  and 
prolific  bloomer,  Ducher  beautiful  pure  white,  and  Her- 
mosa  a  full-petalled  pink.  While  Lavender  in  our  cli- 
mate does  not  grow  with  great  vigour,  we  may  get  al- 
most as  charming  an  effect  by  using  Nepeta  Mussini 
with  the  China  Roses,  in  beds  or  long  narrow  borders. 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       147 

The  favourite  white-flowered  Madame  Plantier, 
which  is  classed  as  a  hybrid  China,  is  a  splendid  Rose, 
forming  in  time  huge  bushes,  each  wandlike  branch 
wreathed  with  snowy,  double  blossoms  in  June.  I 
know  a  beautiful  garden  where  great  bushes  of  this  and 
the  shining  Persian  Yellow  Brier  alternate  along  a  long 
walk  and  create  a  bewildering  pageant  of  beauty  in  the 
season  of  their  blooming. 

THE  BRIERS.  These  are  an  enchanting  race.  Long- 
limbed  and  graceful,  bearing  for  the  most  part  single  blos- 
soms in  lovely  colours,  and  boasting  a  delicious  fragrance, 
both  of  flower  and  leaf.  They  may  be  trained  against 
pillars  and  trellises,  used  to  form  hedges,  or  allowed  to 
grow,  as  I  love  them  best,  into  great  free  bushes. 

The  Sweet-brier,  or  Eglantine,  is  too  well  known  to 
need  special  description:  its  long  branches  starred  with 
single  pink  flowers,  its  fragrant,  "rain-scented"  leafage, 
and  its  gay  haws  are  familiar  to  most  of  us.  And  one 
would  not  be  without  a  bush  or  two  for  old  sakes'  sake, 
though  the  splendid  race  created  by  Lord  Penzance,  and 
named  for  him,  of  which  the  simple  Eglantine  is  a 
parent,  are  in  a  fair  way  to  taking  its  place  in  most 
gardens.  They  have  lost  nothing  of  the  sweetness  of 
foliage  and  have  gained  truly  glorious  colours — peach, 
blush,  copper,  ecru,  cherry,  and  dazzling  scarlet.  These 
roses  are  as  hardy  as  iron  and  very  quick  growing  if  good 
soil  is  provided  for  them,  and  they  make  splendid  bushes 
in  a  short  time.  The  kinds  we  have  here  are  Brenda,  a 


148  MY  GARDEN 

delectable  peach  colour,  with  a  brush  of  golden  sta- 
mens; Lord  Penzance,  soft  buff;  Lady  Penzance, 
burnished  copper;  Meg  Merriles,  beautiful  strong 
crimson;  Green  Mantle,  full  pink  with  an  inner  circle 
of  white;  Flora  M'lvor,  pure  white,  slightly  flushed; 
Ann  of  Gierstein,  dark  crimson;  Lucy  Ashton,  white  with 
pink  edges;  Refulgence,  bright  scarlet,  semi-double. 

The  Hybrid  Scotch  Brier  Stanwell's  Perpetual  has 
small  leaves,  very  thorny  branches,  and  clouds  of  small, 
double,  blush-coloured  Roses.  A  lovely  Rose  this,  to 
grow  in  the  June  borders  with  Persian  Lilacs,  Flag 
Irises,  and  tall  white  Lupines.  As  it  is  somewhat  strag- 
gling in  growth  it  is  well  to  plant  several  together,  thus 
securing  a  well-rounded  bush. 

Of  all  the  Brier  Roses,  the  Austrians  claim  my  warm- 
est admiration.  The  Austrian  Copper  is  a  true  Sweet 
Brier,  with  nicely  scented  leafage,  and  bears  its  wonder- 
ful burnished  blossoms,  vermilion  on  the  under  side  and 
yellow  on  the  upper  surface,  in  lavish  profusion.  It  is 
the  most  brilliantly  striking  Rose  of  my  acquaintance. 
It  is  sometimes  spoken  of  as  capricious,  and  I  believe  it  is 
best  procured  on  its  own  roots,  but  here  in  the  walled 
garden,  in  good  soil  and  a  sunny  position,  it  has  so  far 
been  most  flatteringly  at  home.  The  Austrian  Yellow 
is  also  fine,  but  not  so  striking. 

Besides  the  Maiden's  Blush  Roses  we  found  also  in 
the  dooryard  of  this  old  house  several  fine  bushes  of 
Harisoni,  that  simple,  loose-petalled,  soft  yellow  Rose 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       149 

so  lavish  in  its  "toll  to  passing  June,"  and  so  eloquent 
of  old  gardens  and  the  days  when  simple  things  were  the 
best  beloved.  The  foliage  has  a  faint  sweet-brier  fra- 
grance, and  the  long,  fiercely  armed  branches  are  set  from 
end  to  end  with  semi-double  Roses.  Mrs.  Earl  says 
it  was  called  the  "Yellow  Wreath  Rose"  in  country 
neighbourhoods,  which  seems  more  apt  than  many 
plant  names.  The  bush  of  Harisoni  is  rather  straggly 
in  habit,  and  I  have  found  that  planting  three  together, 
as  with  StanwelPs  Perpetual,  secures  a  better  form. 

The  Persian  Yellow  Rose  is  more  conspicuous,  more 
double,  and  more  golden  than  Harisoni,  but  has  the  same 
wreathlike  growth,  the  long  branches  being  literally 
weighted  to  the  ground  with  their  yellow  burden.  The 
term  "Austrian,"  as  applied  to  these  Roses,  is  misleading, 
as  they  are  Oriental  in  origin.  Harisoni  was  raised  in 
this  country  in  the  early  part  of  the  nineteenth  century. 
Its  parents  are  said  to  be  the  Austrian  Yellow  and  a 
Scotch  Brier.  These  yellow  briers  are  lovely  planted 
in  wide  borders  with  white  and  purple  Persian  Lilacs, 
lavender  and  white  and  buff  Flag  Irises,  pink  and  white 
and  blue  Lupines,  and  bushes  of  hoary  Southernwood 
and  Rue,  with  Nepeta  and  Stachys  lanata  along  the  front, 
i  ROSA  RUGOSA.  Few  gardens  are  without  one  or  more 
representatives  of  the  fine  Rugosa  class.  While  this 
good  and  reliable  Rose  was  introduced  to  the  gardening 


150  MY  GARDEN 

world  as  long  ago  as  1784,  it  was  not  until  about  thirty 
years  ago  that  the  hybridists  took  in  hand  the  single 
white  and  crimson  sorts  first  introduced  from  Japan,  and 
with  their  magic  produced  the  beautiful  double  and 
semi-double  sorts  which  gladden  the  gardens  of  to-day. 
These  Roses  are  so  hardy,  so  free  from  insect  pests  or 
disease,  so  unexacting  in  their  demands,  that  perhaps 
we  do  not  thank  them  enough  for  the  esthetic  value  of 
the  great  loosely  made  blossoms,  the  unusual  character 
of  their  fragrance,  the  polished,  dark-green  foliage,  or 
their  gift  to  winter,  the  plump  scarlet  haws. 

I  am  particularly  fond  of  Blanc  Double  de  Coubert, 
which  bears,  I  think,  the  whitest  flowers  in  the  world. 
It  blooms  early  and  all  summer,  and  is  often  the  last 
Rose  in  the  garden  in  autumn.  Madame  Georges 
Bruant  is  another  splendid  paper-white  sort  of  fine 
form.  Nova  Zembla  is  white,  double,  and  very  sweet- 
scented  and  is  particularly  fine  in  the  bud.  Conrad  F. 
Meyer  is  a  lovely  silvery  pink  Rose,  long  and  perfect  in 
the  bud,  and  fragrant.  It  is  tall  growing  and  makes  a 
good  pillar  Rose.  A  deep  wine-red  sort  is  Souvenir  de 
Pierre  Leperdrieux,  which  lacks  the  magenta  hint  so 
often  present  in  the  red  Roses  of  this  type. 

Rugosa  Roses  make  fine  hedges  and  may  be  planted 
close  together  and  clipped,  but  for  this  purpose  the 
common  alba  and  rubra  are  most  suitable.  The  Hybrid 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       151 

sorts  maybe  grown  among  shrubs  as  free-growing  bushes 
or  trained  against  a  wall  or  low  trellis. 

WILD  ROSES.  Some  of  these  make  fine  subjects  for 
the  shrubbery,  or  for  thickets  along  drives,  or  walks,  or 
for  covering  unsightly  banks.  Most  of  them  are  un- 
exacting  in  the  matter  of  soil  and  situation,  and  thrive 
with  little  attention.  One  of  the  prettiest  is  the  Scotch 
or  Burnet  Rose  (Rosa  spinosissima) ,  a  shrub  not  more 
than  four  or  five  feet  high,  with  long,  recurving,  fiercely 
thorny  branches  set  with  tender,  creamy-white  flowers. 
Much  resembling  it,  but  a  step  nearer  perfection,  is  its 
relative  or  variety,  R.  altaica,  of  Central  Asia,  a  truly 
lovely  thing;  and  there  is  R.  hispida,  another  brier- 
like  relative  with  lemon- white  blossoms. 

R.  lucida  grows  into  nice  thickets,  and  its  brown 
branches  and  gay  fruit  are  welcome  in  the  winter  world. 
In  summer  it  decks  itself  in  fine,  luxuriant  foliage  and 
gleaming  pink  blossoms.  R.  blanda  makes  a  good-sized 
bush,  flowering  in  clusters  of  pink  flowers,  and  is  well 
adapted  for  covering  dry  banks. 

Besides  these  there  are  R.  arvensis,  single  pink 
flowers  and  a  widely  rambling  habit;  R.  setigera,  our 
long-branched  Prairie  Rose,  late  blooming  and  with 
magenta  tendencies;  R.  rubrifolia,  with  rambling  stems 
covered  with  a  purplish  bloom,  and  leaves  tinted  to 
match  the  little  reddish  flowers ;  and  the  Dog  Rose  (R. 
canina),  with  its  pretty,  scentless  blooms  and  long, 
straggling  branches. 


152  MY  GARDEN 

CLIMBERS.  We  now  come  to  the  glorious  array  of 
Climbing  Roses.  Each  year  sees  new  beauties  pre- 
sented for  our  approval,  and  the  difficulty  is  to  find  space 
wherein  to  grow  all  that  we  would  like. 

The  wonder  is  that  with  all  the  long-limbed  loveliness 
at  our  disposal  there  are  so  many  walls,  porches,  fences, 
and  arbours  but  scantily  clothed,  if  clothed  at  all,  and 
considering  the  enormous  variety  of  Climbing  Roses  to 
be  had  how  little  originality  and  fitness  is  shown  in  the 
selections  made.  The  poor  overworked  Crimson  Ram- 
bler is  the  favourite,  and  is  forced  to  blaze  its  unadapt- 
able colour  upon  red  brick  walls,  or  pumpkin- coloured 
houses,  without  a  chance  to  show  its  possibilities.  In 
the  right  place  it  is  a  good  Rose,  save  for  its  propensity  to 
mildew,  and  it  should  be  honoured  as  the  first  of  a  race 
which  gives  us  now  many  more  desirable  sorts.  The 
Crimson  Rambler  is  a  multiflora,  and  to  this  type  and  to 
the  Wichuraianas  we  owe  the  major  part  of  our  Climb- 
ing Roses,  though  we  have  also  Hybrid  Teas,  Hybrid 
Perpetuals,  Teas,  Ayrshires,  Noisettes,  Chinas,  and 
Prairie  Roses. 

Many  of  the  recent  introductions  and  some  of  the 
very  old  ones  are  single  or  semi-double,  and  we  are 
coming  to  realize  and  appreciate  the  esthetic  value  of 
these  simple  shining  flowers.  For  many  years  multi- 
plication of  petals,  the  more  the  better,  was  the  end 
aimed  at  by  the  Rose  conjurers,  and  in  a  little  book 
published  in  Philadelphia,  in  1830,  by  Robert  Buist, 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       153 

florist,  I  note  the  following:  "Although  there  may  be 
great  beauty  in  simplicity,  yet  to  the  admirers  of  the 
Rose,  singleness  is  a  great  objection." 

The  best  results  will  be  secured  from  Climbing  Roses 
by  digging  a  hole  at  least  two  feet  deep  and  the  same 
square  and  filling  it  in  with  a  mixture  of  good  earth  and 
well-rotted  cow  manure.  All  Roses  are  better  in  a  soil 
on  the  side  of  heaviness,  so  that  if  the  soil  where  they 
are  to  be  planted  is  light  and  sandy  it  is  best  not  put 
back  in  the  hole  at  all.  The  plant  should  be  set  in  the 
hole  with  the  roots  well  spread  out  and  the  soil  pressed 
firmly  about  them,  otherwise  high  winds  will  loosen  its 
hold  and  damage  our  prospects  of  a  fine  display.  A 
handful  of  bone  meal  scratched  in  on  the  top  when  the 
hole  is  filled  up  gives  the  young  Rose  a  good  start.  The 
plant  should  be  well  pruned,  tops  and  roots,  before 
planting,  and  kept  from  drying  out  entirely  for  a  few 
weeks.  They  may  be  set  out  early  in  the  spring 
or  in  the  fall.  For  very  hardy  sorts  fall  planting 
is  perhaps  the  most  satisfactory,  but  for  Teas,  Hybrid 
Teas,  and  Noisettes  spring  planting  is  safer.  Farm- 
yard manure  is  the  best  possible  fertilizer  for  Roses. 
In  the  spring  we  turn  back  the  soil  and  scratch  in  a 
little  well-rotted  stuff  about  the  roots,  and  after  the 
flowering  period  is  past  they  receive  a  reward  of  merit 
in  the  form  of  a  little  wood  ashes,  or  a  handful  of 
bone  meal.  The  Roses  here  given  require  no  winter 
covering,  save  in  the  case  of  the  few  noted,  but  a 


154  MY  GARDEN 

blanket  of  stable  litter  is  a  comfort  and  encouragement 
to  all. 

The  following  is  a  list  of  thirty  varieties  which  grow  in 
my  own  garden  and  which  are  both  beautiful  and  re- 
liable. For  those  wanting  not  so  many  I  have  marked 
the  twelve  best  with  an  asterisk  (*).  The  abbrevia- 
tions are  Poly.  =Polyantha  or  properly  Multiflora. 
Wich.  =  Wichuraiana.  H.  T.  =  Hybrid  Tea.  T.  =  Tea. 
H.  P.  =  Hybrid  Perpetual.  H.  C.=  Hybrid  China. 
Ayr.  =  Ayr  shire. 

Silver  Moon*  (Wich.).  Rich  foliage,  large  deep  cream  semi-double 
flowers,  long  and  beautiful  in  the  bud.  Very  vigorous. 

Francois  Guillot  (Wich.).  Deep  cream  flat  double  flowers,  yellow 
in  bud. 

Hiawatha*  (Wich.).  Brilliant,  scarlet-pink,  white  eye,  large  clus- 
ters, single. 

Alberic  Barbier*  (Wich.).  Creamy- white,  buds  yellow,  semi- 
double.  Very  vigorous. 

La  Fiamma*  (Wich.).  Brilliant  flame-rose,  single.  Very  vigor- 
ous. 

Waltham  Rambler  (Poly.).  Soft  pink,  large  clusters,  single. 
Lovely. 

Dorothy  Perkins*  (Wich.).  Clusters  of  bright  pink,  very  double 
flowers,  late.  Very  vigorous. 

Newport  Fairy*  (Wich.).  Large  clusters  of  shell-like  pale  pink 
flowers.  Yellow  at  base.  Exquisite.  Vigorous. 

Mrs.  F.  W.  Flight*  (Poly.).  Large  clusters  of  soft  pink  flowers, 
white  eye. 

Dr.  Van  Fleet*  (Wich.).  Large  double  shrimp  pink,  fine  in  bud, 
exquisite. 

Tausendshon  (Poly.).  Pink  and  white.  Large  trusses.  Semi- 
single. 

Eliza  Robichon  (Wich.).     Pink  and  buff,  semi-double. 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       155 

Empress  of  China*  ( — ).  Like  clusters  of  apple  blossoms. 
Vigorous. 

Bennett's  Seedling  (Ayr.).  Many  pure-white  double  blossoms. 
Vigorous. 

Lyon  Rambler  (Poly.).     Brilliant  cerise.     Huge  trusses.     Vigorous. 

Trier*  (Poly.).  Creamy- white,  yellow  centre.  Semi-double,  con- 
stant bloomer.  Vigorous. 

Blush  Rambler  (Poly.).     Pale  pink,  very  sweet. 

American  Pillar*  (Poly.).  Striking  cerise-pink,  white  eye.  Fine 
single. 

Paul's  Carmine  Pillar*  (H.  T.).     Gorgeous  single  blooms. 

Felicite  Perpetue  (Ayr.).     Charming  creamy-white. 

Coquina  (Wich.) .     Lovely  pink,  single.     Thick,  fine  foliage. 

Climbing  Kaiserin  Augusta  Victoria  (H.  T.).     White  double. 

Climbing  Frau  Karl  Druschki  (H.  P.).  Huge  double  white 
flowers. 

Edmond  Proust  (Wich.).     Coppery-red.     Fine.     Vigorous. 

Pink  Roamer  (Wich.).     Large  silvery  pink  and  white  single. 

Goldfinch  (Poly.).     Pale  yellow,  changing  to  white,  semi-double. 

Dundee  Rambler  (Ayr.).     White,  pink  edges.     Very  vigorous. 

The  Garland  (Ayr.).     Warm  white  and  free  flowering. 

Wm.  C.  Egan  (Poly.).     Bright  pink,  very  double. 

Climbing  Capt.  Christy  (H.  T.).     Lovely  shade  of  pink. 

Such  lovely  tender  Roses  as  Reine  Marie  Henriette, 
William  Allen  Richardson,  and  Gloire  de  Dijon  I  am 
able  to  enjoy  in  our  severe  climate  by  laying  them  on  the 
ground  in  winter  and  covering  them  with  straw  and  a 
warm  blanket  of  manure  over  the  roots. 

In  severe  winters  the  Ayrshires  are  sometimes  winter- 
pruned,  but  the  summer  growth  is  so  vigorous  that  it  is 
of  small  moment. 

PRUNING.  The  pruning  of  Roses  is  a  matter  on 
which  doctors  do  not  always  agree,  but  the  following 


156  MY  GARDEN 

methods  have  proved  satisfactory  to  my  Roses  and  have 
been  gleaned  from  the  most  reliable  sources.  Every 
gardener  should  study  his  .Roses  and  know  well  their 
ways  before  he  attempts  to  prune,  save  in  the  lightest 
manner.  No  exact  general  directions  may  be  given, 
but  a  safe  rule  is  to  prune  vigorous  Roses  lightly  and 
weak-growing  Roses  hard,  also  to  remove  all  dead  wood, 
or  broken  twigs,  and  to  cut  away  all  faded  blossoms,  re- 
moving at  the  same  time  a  bit  of  stem  and  a  leaf  or  two. 
We  prune  first  to  force  sap  into  the  new  shoots,  thus  in- 
suring a  good  crop  of  flowers,  and  second  to  maintain 
a  shapely  bush.  With  this  latter  point  in  view,  it  is 
well  to  prune  to  a  dormant  bud  pointing  outward,  so 
that  the  new  shoots  will  not  point  toward  the  centre  of 
the  bush,  making  a  tangled,  unmanageable  growth. 

Pruning  is  best  done  in  early  March  before  the  sap 
begins  to  run. 

Provence  and  Moss  Roses.  Cut  out  dead  wood,  thin 
out  old  heavy  shoots,  and  cut  back  all  remaining 
shoots  halfway. 

Damask  and  Oallica.  Thin  out  weak,  ineffectual 
shoots  and  cut  the  strong  ones  back  to  about  one 
foot. 

Rosa  Alba  (Maiden's  Blush).  Should  be  grown  as 
tall,  spreading  bushes.  Remove  some  of  the  weak 
shoots  and  occasionally  cut  out  old,  crowded  wood. 
Leave  the  main  branches  long,  shortening  only  a 
little. 


BORDER  ROSES  AND  CLIMBERS       157 

Chinas.  Should  be  cut  back  sharply  to  about 
eighteen  inches  from  the  ground. 

Hybrid  China  (Mad.  Plantier).  Best  grown  as  free 
bushes  leaving  the  shoots  six  feet  long,  shortening  only 
the  laterals  and  side  branches,  and  cutting  out  old  wood 
occasionally. 

Sweet  Briers.  Require  little  pruning,  but  all  old  and 
tough  wood  should  be  cut  to  the  ground  to  make  room 
for  young  growth;  weak  shoots  removed.  No  harm  is 
done  in  shortening  the  very  long  shoots  if  they  are  in  the 
way. 

Scotch  Briers.  No  pruning  save  the  removal  of  dead 
wood. 

Austrian  Briers.  No  pruning  save  the  removal  of 
dead  wood. 

Rugosas.  No  pruning  save  the  removal  of  dead  wood 
and  the  occasional  cutting  back,  almost  to  the  ground, 
of  very  old  wood. 

Wild  Roses.  No  pruning  save  the  removal  of  dead 
wood. 

Climbers.  I  quote  Miss  Jekyll's,  "Roses  for  English 
Gardens": 

"In  the  spring  these  need  very  little  attention  beyond 
securing  the  best  shoots  in  the  positions  they  are  re- 
quired to  occupy,  and  to  shorten  back,  or  remove  al- 
together, any  other  shoots  which  may  not  be  required  at 
all.  Within  July,  however,  all  the  strong-growing 


158  MY  GARDEN 

Roses  should  be  examined,  and  every  year  some  of  the 
shoots  which  have  flowered  be  entirely  removed  and  the 
best  of  the  strong-growing  young  growths  encouraged 
to  take  their  place,  cutting  out  altogether  those  not 
needed." 


CHAPTER  TEN 

BORDER   IRISES 

"I'll  have  an  Iris  that  shall  find  thee  out." 

— Shakespeare. 

WHEN  one  sees  the  rainbow  banners  of  the  Iris 
unfurling  along  the  borders  in  the  sunshine 
it  seems  highly  probable  that  the  mantle  of 
their  namesake  has  fallen  upon  them,  and  that  they  are 
indeed  messengers  of  the  gods,  and  it  seems  well  to  in- 
cline one's  ear  and  open  wide  one's  eyes  lest  we  miss 
some  smallest  shade  of  meaning  in  this  rarely  illumi- 
nated message  brought  to  us  by  these  brave  couriers 
across  the  wintry  wastes. 

The  period  covered  by  the  blossoming  of  the  Iris  is 
full  of  enjoyment  to  me.  Since  the  days  when  all  my 
knowledge  of  this  great  and  varied  family  was  vested 
in  the  common  purple  Iris  of  old  gardens  and  the  gay 
Flag-flowers,  which  lie  in  June  upon  our  moist  meadows, 
"like  the  silent  shadow  of  a  cloud,"  their  spell  has  been 
upon  me,  and  it  was  a  discovery  of  much  delight  that 
these  two  were  but  lowly  members  of  a  great  company 
that  would  gladly  bloom  in  my  garden;  would  fill 
it  from  April  through  July  with  a  lovely,  unexacting 
throng  demanding  little  attention  and  no  special  con- 

159 


160  MY  GARDEN 

ditions,  and  from  whose  ranks  I  might  draw  subjects  for 
every  sort  of  situation. 

I  do  not  speak  of  the  rare  and  difficult  species  and 
varieties  belonging  to  the  Oncocyclus,  Juno,  and  Regalia 
groups,  for  these  unfold  their  flowers  only  for  those  able 
and  willing  to  provide  them  with  very  special  condi- 
tions, but  of  the  many  fine  Irises  that  may  be  found 
under  the  heads,  Pogoniris  and  Apogon,  two  at  least  of 
the  Evansias  and  some  of  the  bulbous  species,  which  will 
bloom  cheerfully  under  ordinary  conditions  in  the  open 
garden. 

There  are  so  many  species  in  this  great  genus,  and  the 
intermarriages  have  been  so  numerous  and  so  confusing, 
that  classification  has  become  difficult;  yet  very  little 
of  this  genealogy  is  necessary  to  us  who  simply  wish  to 
realize  in  our  gardens  the  highest  decorative  possibili- 
ties of  this  splendid  flower. 

For  the  purposes  of  the  open  garden  the  genus  Iris 
may  be  divided  into  four  sections:  Pogoniris  or  Bearded, 
Apogon  or  Beardless,  Evansia  or  Crested,  and  Bulbous. 
The  "beard"  is  a  "collection  of  closely  set  hairs"  on  the 
"falls"  or  drooping  petals  of  the  Iris  flower.  Irises 
without  this  decoration  are  called  beardless.  The 
"crest"  is  an  "elevated  line  or  ridges  on  the  segment  of 
an  Iris." 

The  bearded  section  contains  the  best  known  and 
most  easily  grown  of  the  Irises.  They  possess  a  thick, 
fleshy  rootstock,  creeping  along  the  surface  of  the  earth, 


WHEN  ONE  SEES  THE  RAINBOW  BANNERS  OF  THE  IRIS  UNFURLING  ALONG 
THE  BORDERS  IN  THE  SUNSHINE  IT  SEEMS  HIGHLY  PROBABLE  THAT  THE 
MANTLE  OF  THEIR  NAMESAKE  HAS  FALLEN  UPON  THEM,  AND  IT  SEEMS  WELL 
TO  INCLINE  ONE'S  EAR  AND  OPEN  WIDE  ONE'S  EYES  LEST  WE  MISS  SOME 
SMALLEST  SHADE  OF  MEANING  IN  THIS  RARELY  ILLUMINATED  MESSAGE" 


BORDER  IRISES  161 

and  delight  in  the  sunniest  situations  in  the  garden. 
Among  them  may  be  found  plants  from  four  inches  in 
height  to  three  and  one-half  feet,  all  bearing  large,  con- 
spicuous flowers  above  the  erect,  swordlike  foliage,  the 
strong  vertical  lines  of  which  are  so  valuable  in  the 
borders  where  so  much  is  uncertain  or  spreading. 

Most  important  in  the  Pogoniris  group  are  those 
known  as  German  Irises  which  include,  not  only  I. 
germanica,  the  type,  a  May-flowering  species  with  few 
varieties,  but  many  closely  allied  forms  blooming  in 
June;  as  pallida,  squalens,  amoena,  aphylla,  florentina 
and  others,  each  of  which  has  numerous  garden  hy- 
brids. The  familiar  blue-purple  Flag  of  old  gardens  is 
typical  of  these  German  Irises — hardy  and  patient — 
blooming  with  prodigal  generosity  under  the  most  un- 
toward conditions.  How  often  we  see  it  holding  high 
its  splendid  head  close  to  the  dusty  roadside  whence  it 
has  found  its  way  through  the  broken  palings  of  a 
neglected  dooryard,  or  keeping  guard  in  great  spreading 
patches  with  the  enduring  Lilacs  over  the  crumbling 
ruins  of  what  was  once  a  home. 

Some  of  the  other  varieties  of  I.  germanica  are  much 
finer  than  the  Old  Purple,  though  none  are  more  willing 
and  few  are  better  for  mass  planting,  as: 

I.  Kochii,  deep  claret-purple,  twenty-three  inches. 

Amas,  amethyst  standards  and  violet  falls,  thirty-two 
inches. 

Crimson  King,  splendid  red-purple,  twenty-one  inches. 


162  MY  GARDEN 

Kharput,  strong  violet-purple,  large  flowers,  thirty- 
three  inches. 

Ingeborg,  standards  white,  falls  tender  gray,  orange 
beard,  seventeen  inches. 

Other  tall-growing,  May-flowering  Irises  are  I.  floren- 
tina, albicans,  Billioti,  Cengialti,  benacensis,  and  flave- 
scens.  Florentina,  from  the  root  of  which  is  made  the 
fragrant  orris  powder,  is  only  less  familiar  as  a  charming 
inhabitant  of  old  gardens  than  the  Purple  Flag.  It  is 
one  of  the  loveliest  of  Irises,  and  its  French-gray  crepe 
flowers  are  invaluable  to  us  in  creating  May  pictures. 
It  is  fine  with  the  Dicentras  and  tall  pink  Tulips  of  the 
Cottage  and  Darwin  types;  with  the  yellow  Doronicums 
and  the  pretty  lavender-flowered  Phlox  divaricata,  and  is 
splendid  in  spreading  groups  near  pink-flowered  Crab- 
apple  trees.  Albicans  and  its  variety  Princess  of  Wales 
are  forms  of  florentina  blooming  a  little  later  and  with 
flowers  very  nearly  a  pure  white. 

Iris  Billioti  is  a  tall  plant  bearing  very  fragrant  red- 
purple  blossoms  late  in  May,  and  I.  benacensis,  in  two 
shades  of  purple,  grows  only  eighteen  inches  tall  and 
blooms  in  the  early  part  of  the  month. 

I.  Cengialti,  which  Miss  Jekyll  mentions  as  the  nearest 
to  a  blue  Iris,  is  a  slender  plant — not  so  firmly  erect  as 
many  of  its  kind,  but  very  pretty.  Its  two  varieties 
Loppio  and  Zephyr,  the  latter  more  lilac  in  colour,  are 
well  worth  possessing.  Flavescens,  bearing  large,  soft 
yellow  flowers,  very  sweetly  scented,  is  one  of  the  best  of 


BORDER  IRISES  163 

the  May-flowering  sorts.  It  grows  about  two  and  a  half 
feet  high. 

Besides  these  tall,  early-flowering  Irises  there  are  a 
number  of  dwarfs,  some  of  which  bloom  in  April.  The 
different  species  and  their  varieties  are  rather  badly 
confused  in  catalogues,  and  I  don't  know  that  it  makes  a 
great  deal  of  difference  as  they  are  much  alike,  save  that 
it  is  interesting  to  know  the  true  names  of  one's  plants. 
Lurida,  with  its  beautiful  coppery-bronze  flowers,  is  too 
distinct  to  be  easily  confused  with  other  sorts.  With 
me  this  plant  blooms  twice,  first  in  early  May  and  again 
in  late  October,  but  as  I  have  not  seen  this  generous 
behaviour  ascribed  to  it  I  do  not  know  if  it  be  its  regular 
habit. 

Varieties  of  7.  Chamaeiris  and  pumila  are  constantly 
sent  out  misnamed — that  is,  the  former  is  nearly  always 
sent  where  the  latter  is  ordered,  and  this  is  irritating 
since  pumila  is  both  dwarf er  and  prettier  than  Chamae- 
iris and  may  be  easily  distinguished  by  the  fact  that  it 
has  no  stem,  while  the  taller  sort  has  very  distinctly  an 
inch  or  two.  The  loveliest  variety  of  pumila  is  caerulea, 
a  four-inch  mite,  very  nearly  sky-blue  in  colour,  and 
there  is  also  a  pretty  sky-blue  sort  called  Attraction. 
Chamaeiris  has  a  number  of  good  sorts — red-purple, 
blue-purple,  citron,  pale  yellow,  and  I  believe  white.  7. 
gracilis  bears  a  charming  silver-gray  flower  shot  with 
mauve  and  sweetly  scented.  7.  lutescens  is  pure  yellow 
of  a  very  fine  warm  tone.  There  are  also  the  Hybrid 


164  MY  GARDEN 

Crimean  Irises  in  large  variety,  varying  from  six  inches 
to  a  foot  in  height. 

All  these  Dwarf  Irises  bloom  in  April  and  May,  and 
are  very  charming  in  spreading  patches  along  the  edges 
of  the  borders  between  the  mounds  of  Arabis,  Aubrietia, 
Iberis,  and  Alyssum,  backed  by  ranks  of  early  Tulips 
and  Daffodils.  They  spread  quickly  and  blossom  so 
freely  as  to  produce  sheets  of  solid  colour. 

A  good  and  representative  collection  of  the  tall  June- 
flowering  German  Irises  which  are  among  the  most 
valuable  of  hardy  plants  is  the  following: 

AMOENA  SECTION. 

L'Innocence,  ivory-white  with  gold  beard,  twenty- 
six  inches. 

Mrs.  H.  Darwin,  blue  and  white,  orange  beard, 
twenty-eight  inches. 

Thorbeck,  rich  purple  with  white  markings,  thirty -six 
inches. 

NEGLECTA  SECTION. 

Black  Prince,  standards  lavender,  falls  blackish- 
purple,  two  and  one-half  feet. 

Cordelia,  two  shades  of  rosy-lilac,  two  feet. 

Willie  Barr,  standards  French-gray,  falls  white  traced 
violet,  eighteen  inches. 

PALLIDA  SECTION. 

Dalmatica,  splendid  large  clear  lilac  flowers,  broad, 
strong  foliage,  forty  inches. 


BORDER  IRISES  165 

Celeste,  silvery-lavender,  three  feet. 

Her  Majesty,  standards  soft  rose,  falls  deeper  in 
colour,  two  and  one-half  feet. 

Madame  Pacquitte,  shades  of  claret,  two  and  one-half 
feet. 

Queen  of  May,  rose-lilac,  almost  pink,  thirty-two 
inches. 

PLICATA  SECTION  (SYN.  APHYLLA). 

Bridesmaid,  white  and  silvery-lilac,  twenty-seven 
inches. 

Madame  Chereau,  white  frilled  lavender,  thirty-eight 
inches. 

Sappho,  fine  white  flower  with  lilac  edges,  two  feet. 

VARIEGATA  SECTION. 

Innocenza,  pure  white,  gold  crest. 
Darius,  primrose-yellow  and  lilac. 
Maori  King,  golden-yellow  and  maroon. 

SQUALENS  SECTION. 

Jacquiniana,  copper  colour  and  claret,  two  and  one- 
half  feet. 

Dr.  Bernice,  bronze  and  maroon,  two  feet. 

Exquisite,  clouded  yellow  and  rose-lilac,  twenty-six 
inches. 

June  borders  made  up  of  groups  of  these  German 
Irises  intermingled  with  tall  blue  and  white  Lupines, 


166  MY  GARDEN 

Lemon  Lilies,  Foxgloves,  and  Peach-leaved  Campanulas, 
with  a  background  of  Persian  Lilacs  and  such  free-grow- 
ing Roses  as  Stan  well's  Perpetual,  Madame  Plantier,  and 
the  yellow  Briers — Harisoni  and  the  Persian — and  edged 
with  double  white  Pinks  and  Nepeta  Mussini,  are  a  joy 
indeed,  if  one  has  sufficient  room  to  give  up  a  whole 
border  to  a  single  month.  Often  such  a  border  as  this 
may  be  made  in  some  inconspicuous  part  of  the  grounds 
where  it  need  be  visited  only  when  in  festal  array. 

All  these  Bearded  Irises  with  fleshy,  creeping  rhizomes 
or  roots  should  be  planted  with  the  rhizome  partly 
above  the  surface  of  the  ground,  for  the  health  of  the 
plant  requires  that  this  should  be  well  ripened  by  the 
sun,  and  the  best  time  to  set  them  out  is  just  after  they 
have  flowered.  To  increase  one's  stock  pieces  of  the 
thick  root  may  be  broken  from  the  parent  clump,  the 
foliage  cut  back  to  an  inch  or  so,  and  the -root  set  firmly, 
but  only  part  way  in  the  earth.  These  plants  should  be 
large  enough  to  bloom  the  following  year. 

The  Evansea  or  crested  group  is  a  small  one  and  but 
two  of  its  members  known  to  me  are  suitable  for  the 
open  garden.  A  jagged  "crest"  replaces  the  "beard" 
of  the  Pogoniris  and  the  rhizome  is  thick  and  creeps 
along  the  surface  of  the  ground  very  much  as  do  the 
roots  of  the  latter. 

/.  tectorum,  the  Japanese  Roof  Iris,  from  the  roots  of 
which  the  ladies  of  Japan  make  a  famed  cosmetic,  is  to 
me  one  of  the  most  beautiful  of  the  family.  The  re- 


BORDER  IRISES  167 

flexed  leaves  are  slightly  glaucous;  the  flower  stalk, 
about  eighteen  inches  high,  bears  several  very  large, 
flat  blue-purple  flowers  curiously  clouded  with  a  deeper 
colour  and  further  embellished  by  an  ivory  crest.  There 
is  a  rare  white  variety  which  is  surpassed  in  elegance 
and  distinction  by  few  flowers  known  to  me.  Though 
tectorum  is  often  spoken  of  as  not  very  amenable,  it 
grows  here  with  great  freedom  in  a  slightly  raised  sunny 
border  protected  on  the  north  and  east  by  the  garden 
wall,  and  bears  its  esthetic  flowers  in  satisfying  pro- 
fusion. I  have  raised  many  plants  of  tectorum  from 
seed  gathered  from  my  own  plants  many  of  which  have 
bloomed  the  second  year. 

Wee  Iris  cristata,  a  native  American  found  in  parts  of 
Maryland  and  Virginia,  has  the  appearance  of  some- 
thing rare  and  costly,  but  grows  like  any  weed  in  the 
borders  and  makes  a  charming  edging.  The  plants 
grow  only  about  four  inches  high,  and  the  large  spreading 
lavender  blossoms  made  brilliant  by  a  conspicuous  gold 
crest  are  so  profusely  borne  as  to  quite  hide  the  foliage. 
They  flower  in  May,  and  I  like  to  plant  them  in  front  of 
the  orange-scarlet  Geums  or  between  mounds  of  deep- 
purple  Aubrietia. 

Many  delightful  plants  are  to  be  found  in  the  Apogon 
or  Beardless  section  of  the  rhizomatous  Irises,  and  most 
of  these,  while  as  easy  to  grow  and  as  showy  as  the 
German  Irises,  are,  save  for  the  Japanese  sort,  rare  in 
gardens.  Perhaps  this  is  because  they  are  looked  upon 


168  MY  GARDEN 

as  water  lovers,  and  while  this  is  true  of  a  large  majority 
of  them  I  have  not  found  any  that  will  not  grow  and 
flower  contentedly  in  rich,  deeply  dug  garden  soil.  The 
blossoms  of  this  type  of  Iris  are  more  delicately  modelled 
than  those  of  the  Bearded  group  and  seem  poised  like 
gay  butterflies  above  the  slender  grasslike  foliage,  and 
instead  of  the  fleshy  root  there  is  a  bunch  of  slender 
rootlets. 

Of  the  Beardless  Irises  preferring  the  dryer  parts  of 
the  garden,  /.  missouriensis,  a  native,  is  the  best.  It  is 
an  early  bloomer  producing  its  yellow-blotched  lavender 
blossoms  very  freely.  /.  foetidissima,  growing  wild  in 
Great  Britain,  is  unique  among  its  kind,  for,  while  the 
blossoms  are  dull  and  not  lovely,  the  orange-scarlet 
seeds,  which  cling  all  winter  to  the  flaring  pods,  are 
pretty  and  decorative,  and  are  useful  at  a  season  when 
colour  in  the  garden  is  at  a  premium.  This  Iris  is  also 
one  of  the  few  which  does  not  abhor  shade,  but  it  has  a 
drawback  in  the  disagreeable  odour  which  emanates 
from  its  handsome  foliage  when  bruised.  A  low-grow- 
ing and  very  pretty  Iris  for  near  the  front  of  the  border 
is  /.  graminea.  Its  gay,  reddish-purple  blossoms  are 
almost  hidden  among  its  narrow,  grasslike  leaves.  It  is 
easily  grown  in  any  sunny  border  and  has,  an  agreeable 
fragrance.  I.  fulva,  which  I  have  not  yet  been  able  to 
flower,  is  described  as  bearing  handsome  terra-cotta 
flowers  on  stems  two  feet  tall.  Mr.  W.  R.  Dykes 
speaks  of  it  as  "difficult"  and  says  it  demands  "a  hot 


BORDER  IRISES  169 

and  dry  position  if  it  is  to  produce  its  remarkable  blos- 
soms in  any  profusion." 

Preeminent  among  the  moisture  lovers  is  the  great 
Japanese  Iris,  I.  laevigata  or  Kaempferi,  which  is  one  of 
the  finest  hardy  plants  we  have  but  which  does  not  do  as 
well  as  some  of  the  others  of  its  class  in  the  dry  borders 
of  the  garden.  Indeed  in  its  chosen  place  by  the  water- 
side it  is  so  truly  magnificent  it  seems  a  pity  to  be 
satisfied  with  it  grown  under  any  other  conditions.  In 
very  deep,  rich  soil,  freely  watered  especially  while  the 
buds  are  forming,  one  may  realize  much  beauty  but  may 
not  command  the  same  luxuriance  of  growth  and  splen- 
did spread  of  blossom  that  one  is  graciously  vouchsafed 
in  a  naturally  moist  situation.  The  huge  blossoms  of 
the  Japanese  Iris  frequently  measure  six  inches  across 
and  are  most  wonderful  in  colour  and  texture.  Mr. 
Irwin  Lynch  in  his  valuable  "Book  of  the  Iris"  gives 
the  following  as  good  varieties: 

Alexander  von  Humboldt,  pure  white. 

Chyia,  lilac  and  white. 

Her  Majesty,  violet,  speckled  white. 

Keiko,  blush  suffused  and  speckled  rose. 

Lady  Scott  Monorief,  white  with  rose  halo. 

Netta,  white,  edged  rose-pink. 

Ozaka,  pale  sky-blue  passing  to  white  with  golden 
blotch. 

The  length  of  their  blossoming  period  may  be  quite 
appreciably  lengthened  by  planting  some  in  partial 


170  MY  GARDEN 

shade.  They  are  easily  raised  from  seed,  the  young 
plants  usually  blooming  the  second  or  third  year. 

The  next  most  important  group  of  these  beardless 
moisture  lovers  is  the  slender  7.  sibirica  and  its  varieties 
— symmetrical  plants  with  lightly  made  fairy  blossoms 
poised  delicately  above  the  narrow,  reflexing  foliage. 
Particularly  pure  and  lovely  is  the  white  sort,  I.  sibirica 
var.  alba;  and  there  are  good  blue,  lavender,  and  purple 
forms.  These  Siberians  are  most  effective  planted  in 
rather  large  groups,  as  a  single  plant  is  not  strong  enough 
to  create  any  great  effect,  and  as  the  frail  character  of 
their  beauty  suffers  in  comparison  with  their  more  robust 
German  cousins  they  are  best  kept  out  of  each  other's 
company. 

A  close  relative  of  sibirica  is  7.  orientalis,  which  is  not 
to  be  confounded  with  that  orientalis  whose  more 
familiar  name  is  7.  ochroleuca.  Two  varieties  of  the 
Siberian  orientalis,  Blue  King  and  Snow  Queen,  are 
among  the  most  conspicuous  and  valuable  of  garden 
Irises.  The  one  bears  intense  blue-purple  blossoms 
with  reddish  spathes  and  the  other  pure  white  in  such 
profusion  as  to  almost  hide  the  foliage.  The  ripened 
seed  pods  are  so  numerous  that  they  give  the  plant  a 
very  untidy  appearance  after  flowering,  so  it  is  best  to 
cut  them  off.  All  the  Siberians  are  easily  raised  from 
seed,  and  the  plants  when  once  established  should 
be  left  alone  to  perfect  their  beauty.  They  do  as  well 
in  the  rich  borders  of  the  garden  as  in  the  moist 


BORDER  IRISES  171 

situations  which  their  hollow  stems  tell  us  that  they 
enjoy. 

I.  longipetala  is  the  only  tractable  member  of  the 
beautiful  and  desirable  California  group.  It  bears  a 
lovely  sprightly  flower  with  deep-toned  veinings  on  the 
lavender  ground  of  its  standards  and  tender  silvery 
falls.  It  is  said  that  this  plant  should  be  moved  only 
when  in  full  growth.  7.  spuria  and  its  various  forms 
are  well  worth  planting,  though  I  believe  they  vary  much 
in  desirability.  Mrs.  A.  W.  Tate,  the  only  form  I  have 
here,  is  a  good  plant  with  fine  foliage  and  a  strong  stem 
carrying  several  deep-lavender  flowers. 

Closely  related  to  this  is  /.  guildenstaedtiana — a  for- 
midable name  and  a  none  too  attractive  species.  The 
purple  form  is  better  than  the  dingy  yellow,  but  neither 
need  be  included  in  any  but  a  large  collection. 

Three  fine  yellow  Irises  for  the  border  or  waterside 
are  7.  aurea,  Monnieri,  and  ochroleuca.  The  first  bears 
a  finely  modelled  butter-yellow  flower  with  slightly 
crimped  petals  poised  well  above  the  foliage;  Monnieri 
sends  its  lemon-coloured  blossoms  aloft  on  stems  four 
feet  tall,  and  has  a  noble  relative,  Monaurea,  deeper  in 
colour,  which  is  said  to  grow  six  feet  tall  in  moist  situa- 
tions. There  is  also  another  relative,  Monspur,  with 
striking  blue  and  yellow  flowers  that  is  too  good  a  thing 
to  be  omitted  from  a  collection  of  any  size.  Ochroleuca, 
the  Gold  Banded  Iris,  is  said  to  reach  a  height  of  six  feet 
when  well  established  in  a  moist  situation,  but  it  has  not 


172  MY  GARDEN 

done  this  for  me.  The  great  thick-skinned  ivory- 
coloured  blossoms,  deepening  to  pure  gold  at  the  base, 
are  wonderfully  beautiful,  and  one  wishes  that  they 
might  be  borne  with  greater  generosity.  We  have  used 
these  yellow  Irises  with  the  addition  of  Monspur  and 
Snow  Queen  to  encircle  a  little  ever-overflowing  pool  in 
the  walled  garden.  They  bloom  late — in  late  June  and 
early  July — but  in  May  the  little  bed  is  gay  with  Forget- 
me-nots,  Violas,  and  double  Poet's  Narcissus. 

Our  pretty  native,  7.  versicolor,  which  Thoreau  said  is 
too  gay  "like  some  women's  bonnets,"  and  the  yellow 
Water  Flag  (7.  pseudacorus) ,  are  a  bit  too  free  with  their 
progeny  to  make  garden  life  quite  the  thing  for  them. 
Far  and  wide  the  quickly  germinating  seeds  are  scat- 
tered, and  before  one  knows  it  there  are  cunning  baby 
Irises  coming  up  all  over  the  garden  which  in  a  sur- 
prisingly short  time  have  grown  into  stout  clumps,  and 
choicer,  less  pervasive  things  are  crowded  out.  But  in 
the  wilder  parts  of  the  place,  the  meadows,  or  along  the 
stream  or  pond,  these  two  may  increase  at  will,  and  one 
is  only  grateful  for  their  fruitfulness. 

With  the  Bulbous  Irises  I  have  had  no  great  ex- 
perience though  the  few  that  are  known  to  me  have 
made  me  anxious  to  extend  my  acquaintance  among 
them.  Nothing  could  be  more  lovely  than  those  be- 
longing to  the  reticulata  group.  I  have  grown  only 
three  of  these  Irises  including  the  type,  but  Professor 
Bailey  gives  quite  a  number  as  hardy  in  the  vicinity  of 


BORDER  IRISES  173 

New  York  City.  These  Irises  have  curiously  "netted" 
bulbs,  hence  the  name,  and  the  type  and  its  variety 
Krelagei  are  characterized  by  peculiar  four-sided  leaves 
with  a  horny  tip.  The  type  is  the  most  beautiful  of  all. 
I  never  cease  to  be  quite  overwhelmed  at  the  appearance 
of  these  brilliant  purple  and  gold  flowers  so  early  in  the 
year,  shining  through  their  stiff,  narrow  leaves.  Last 
spring  they  flashed  forth  while  the  snow  still  lay  upon 
the  ground,  and  in  spite  of  the  discouraging  cold  their 
delicious  violet  fragrance  was  discernible  several  feet 
away.  /.  Krelagei  bears  a  duller  flower,  and  neither 
this  nor  the  variety  histrioides  has,  save  in  a  slight  de- 
gree, the  violet  perfume.  Histrioides  blooms  a  little 
before  the  others  and  bears  larger  flowers  which  often 
expand  before  the  leaves  are  well  out  of  the  ground.  If 
taken  into  a  warm  room  both  this  and  Krelagei  will  give 
out  more  perfume,  but  the  type  seems  quite  undaunted 
in  its  determination  to  make  sweet  the  cold  March 
garden. 

All  the  reticulata  Irises  are  prone  to  a  deadly  disease 
which  shows  on  the  netted  surface  of  the  bulb  in  inklike 
spots,  and  soon  proves  fatal.  Professor  Michael  Foster 
recommends  lifting  and  replanting  the  bulbs  frequently, 
discarding  those  which  show  the  blight,  and  another 
authority  advocates  soaking  them  for  an  hour  or  so  in  a 
solution  of  formaline  of  the  strength  of  one  in  three 
hundred  parts.  My  reticulatas  have  done  fairly  well  in 
a  raised  border  against  a  wall  facing  south,  where  they 


174  MY  GARDEN 

are  kept  dry  in  winter.  The  soil  is  a  mixture  of  sand 
and  rather  heavy  loam,  but  I  believe  an  admixture  of 
clay  is  more  desirable  for  these  bulbs. 

The  so-called  Spanish  and  English  Irises  are  quite  in- 
dispensable if  we  have  a  spot  to  suit  them.  The  stem 
of  the  Spanish  Iris  (7.  Xiphium)  rises  stiffly  to  a  height 
of  about  eighteen  inches  and  carries  two  flowers  quite 
conventional  in  their  chaste  formality  of  line.  They 
are  so  inexpensive  that  the  bulbs  may  be  bought  by  the 
thousand,  and  I  know  of  no  investment  which  insures 
a  greater  return  in  beauty.  They  are  best  planted  in 
August  that  they  may  send  up  their  narrow,  onion-like 
growth,  which  seems  a  sort  of  guarantee  of  good  faith, 
before  frost.  Any  dry,  sunny  border  suits  them  well, 
but  they  do  not  like  to  be  pressed  upon  by  strong  grow- 
ing perennials  or  robbed  by  greedy  annuals,  but  after 
the  foliage  has  gone  they  do  not  object  to  a  carpet 
of  such  lightly  rooting  annuals  as  Sedum  coeruleum, 
lonopsidium  acaule,  or  Gypsophila  muralis.  When  the 
bulbs  become  overcrowded  it  is  well  to  lift  and  replant 
them  comfortably. 

These  flowers  have  been  called  the  "poor  man's 
Orchid,"  but  rich  and  poor  and  all  the  middle-sized  folk 
between  will  make  no  mistake  in  planting  Spanish  Irises 
generously  both  in  a  cutting  garden,  for  they  are  lovely 
for  indoor  decoration,  and  all  about  the  garden  in  nooks 
and  corners  as  we  like  to  plant  the  Daffodils.  The  white 
varieties  are  exquisite,  and  the  great  bronze  Thunderbolt 


BORDER  IRISES  175 

very  striking.  Leander  is  pure  yellow  and  sweetly 
scented,  and  there  are  any  number  of  delightful  others 
running  through  many  shades  of  cream,  bronze,  ame- 
thyst, lavender,  blue,  and  yellow.  These  are  among  the 
few  plants  which  may  with  safety  be  bought  "mixed" 
— inharmony  seems  impossible  to  them. 

The  English  Iris  (I.  xiphioides)  requires  more  mois- 
ture than  is  usually  to  be  had  in  our  dry  American  gar- 
dens, and  in  my  own  garden,  even  with  faithful  water- 
ing, it  has  not  been  happy.  It  is  very  handsome  with 
large  spreading  flowers  in  shades  of  blue,  purple,  and 
white  which  appear  with  the  Spanish  Irises  in  July. 

These  with  other  bulbous  Irises  should  be  planted  in 
the  autumn,  and  may  be  found  in  the  catalogues  of 
"Dutch  Bulbs."  Another  year  I  hope  to  add  to  my 
collection  I.  tuberosay  "the  Widow,"  /.  persica,  and  two 
of  the  Juno  group  said  to  be  the  least  crotchety — I. 
orchioides  and  caucasica. 


CHAPTER  ELEVEN 

THE   LURE   OF   THE   LILY 
"Look  to  the  lilies  how  they  grow!" 


— Moir. 


WHO  has  not  felt  the  lure  of  the  Lily,  and  how 
many,  like  myself,  have  withstood  the  siren 
call  in  fear  of  the  pitfalls  she  is  said  to  spread 
for  her  admirers?     For  a  long  time  no  Lily  gleamed 
within  my  garden,  and  I  comforted  myself — like  the 
small  boy  who  will  do  great  deeds  when  he  is  old — with 
the  promise  that  when  I  became  a  really  experienced 
gardener  I  would  have  them  in  plenty. 

But  what  we  found  when  we  came  to  live  in  this 
place  completely  upset  all  my  theories  upon  Lily  grow- 
ing, for  here,  in  the  unkempt  dooryard,  grew  Lilies,  in  a 
luxuriance  undreamed,  successfully  disputing  with  the 
purple  Phlox  and  rioting  old-fashioned  Roses  in  the 
tangled  grass  for  room  to  "rise  and  shine."  True, 
there  were  but  two  sorts,  L.  candidum,  growing  in 
spreading  patches  at  the  foot  of  a  splendid  purple 
Clematis  vine  which  wreathed  the  porch,  and  L.  ti- 
grinum,  which  in  its  season  sent  up  dozens  and  dozens 
of  five-foot  stalks  hanging  out  innumerable  great  orange- 
coloured  funnels  in  hilarious  discord  with  the  magenta 

176 


THE  LURE  OP  THE  LILY  177 

Phloxes.  Here  was  no  frail  delicacy  or  capriciousness, 
and  feeling  that  I  had  lost  much  time  the  Lily  lists  at 
once  became  a  source  of  absorbing  interest  and  one 
which  necessitated  much  self-control,  for  Lilies  bought 
in  any  quantity  are  pretty  expensive. 

All  authorities  tell  us  that  no  garden  will  grow  all  the 
Lilies;  indeed,  to  find  half  a  dozen  which  will  accept  our 
conditions  is  highly  fortunate.  I  had  no  way  of  finding 
out  which  ones  were  suited  to  my  soil  and  situation  and 
so  experiment  was  the  only  course,  and  after  several 
years'  trial  given  to  sixteen  sorts  can  report  that  seven 
have  accepted  the  garden  absolutely,  three  have  not 
quite  made  up  their  minds,  and  six  will  have  none  of  us. 
My  experience  with  Lilies  has  been  only  in  the  garden 
proper,  grown  in  the  beds  and  borders  among  other 
hardy  plants,  but,  of  course,  if  one  wishes  to  specialize  a 
bit  it  is  possible  to  prepare  beds  for  them  filled  with  the 
soil  best  suited  to  their  needs,  but  my  own  interest  is 
only  in  finding  those  which  need  no  greater  considera- 
tion than  is  given  to  the  other  hardy  plants,  and  which 
may  be  counted  upon  for  a  fine  effect  in  their  season. 
There  are  about  eighty  known  species  of  Lily,  but  for 
those  with  aspirations  akin  to  my  own,  and  in  our  cli- 
mate, I  should  say  that  the  choice  should  be  limited  to 
about  twenty-five. 

One  of  the  most  important  facts  to  know  about  Lilies 
is  that  many  have  two  sets  of  roots,  one  growing  from 
the  base  of  the  bulb  in  autumn  to  provide  food  for  the 


178  MY  GARDEN 

bulb,  and  the  other  from  the  base  of  the  stem  in  spring 
to  provide  for  the  needs  of  the  flowers  and  leaves  to 
come.  Those  double-rooted  Lilies  must  be  planted 
more  deeply  than  the  single-rooted  sorts,  for  if  the  upper 
set  of  roots  is  too  near  the  surface  of  the  soil  they  will  be 
insufficiently  supplied  with  moisture  and  often  burned 
and  injured  by  the  sun,  and  while  the  bulb  may  remain 
alive  it  will  be  overtaxed  and  weakened  by  the  extra 
strain  put  upon  it  and  there  will  be  no  flowers,  or  at  least 
very  poor  and  imperfect  ones.  Dr.  Wallace,  in  his 
"Notes  on  Lilies,"  states  as  his  belief  the  fact  that  the 
deadly  disease  which  yearly  destroys  so  many  auratum 
and  other  double-rooting  Lilies  is  usually  caused  by  the 
shallow  planting  of  the  bulbs.  They  should  be  set  at 
least  eight  inches  below  the  surface  of  the  soil,  while  for 
the  single-rooting  sorts  five  or  six  is  sufficient.  L. 
auratum,  Batemannice,  Brownii,  croceum,  Henryi,  ele- 
gans,  longiflorum,  tigrinum,  speciosum,  Hansoni,  Kra- 
meri  are  some  of  those  which  grow  two  sets  of  roots  and, 
as  among  these  are  some  of  the  loveliest  and  most  use- 
ful of  Lilies,  we  must  do  what  we  can  to  bring  about 
the  conditions  which  tend  to  their  highest  development. 
Few  Lilies  do  well  in  sun  unless  the  stems  are  pro- 
tected, and  so  we  make  a  charming  virtue  of  necessity 
and  clothe  the  tender  stems  with  the  foliage  of  other 
plants.  In  shady  places  ferns  make  a  most  exquisite 
setting  for  Lilies,  and  in  the  sunny  borders  many  plants 
may  be  called  upon  to  serve  the  same  purpose.  Of  these 


THE  LURE  OF  THE  LILY  179 

none  is  more  charming  than  Dicentra  eximia  with  its 
fernlike  foliage,  but  on  account  of  its  pink  flowers  it 
may  be  used  only  with  Lilies  of  white,  pink,  or  buff  col- 
ouring— candidum,  speciosum,  Brownii.  Other  good 
plants  for  the  purpose  are  Corydalis  lutea  and  cheilanthi- 
folia,  Funkias  subcordata  and  Sieboldii,  Nepeta  Mussiniy 
Artemisia  Stelleriana  and  Abrotanum,  Rue,  Columbine, 
Thalictrum  minus,  and  the  large-leaved  Saxifrages. 

Some  kinds  of  Lilies  *  are  said  to  prefer  a  heavy,  peaty 
soil,  among  them  being  L.  auratum,  tigrinum,  Hansoni, 
giganteum,  Washingtonianum,  Humboldtii,  testaceum,  and 
Martagon.  Of  those  reputed  to  do  best  in  light  soils 
are  L.  Philadelphicum,  bulbiferum,  croceum,  dahuricum, 
concolor,  elegans,  candidum,  longiflorum,  chalcedonicum, 
and  speciosum.  I  think  it  well,  however,  not  to  take 
these  lists  as  final,  but  to  find  out  fo'r  one's  self  what 
Lilies  one's  soil  will  entertain  successfully. 

The  soil  recommended  in  Bailey's  "Cyclopedia  of 
American  Horticulture"  as  being  the  most  generally 
suited  to  Lilies  is  a  light,  rich  loam  freely  mixed  with 
sand  and  grit.  Standing  water  about  the  bulbs  is  a 
most  frequent  cause  of  destruction,  and  to  guard  against 

*  In  the  July  Garden  Magazine  for  1915  Mr.  E.  H.  Wilson,  in  a  most  interesting 
article  on  Lilies,  insists  that  the  reputed  desire  on  the  part  of  Lilies  for  a  peaty  soil 
is  pure  fiction :  that  the  major  portion  of  them  are  found  growing  in  desert  places, 
on  dry,  rocky  hillsides  or  in  volcanic  deposits,  and  that  even  the  so-called  "moisture 
lovers"  grow  in  the  swamps  on  little  hillocks  which  are  quite  dry  in  whiter.  This 
would  quite  revolutionize  the  science  of  Lily  growing,  which  has  so  far  brought 
about  most  indifferent  results,  and  teach  us  to  give  our  Lilies  a  poor,  gritty  soil 
with  good,  sharp  drainage. 


180  MY  GARDEN 

this  it  is  well  to  give  the  bulbs  a  cushion  and  covering  of 
sand  when  setting  them  out.  The  Japanese  place  Lily 
bulbs  which  have  widely  spreading  scales  upon  the  side 
to  prevent  water  lodging  between  the  scales  and  thus 
rotting  the  bulb;  L.  Brownii  is  best  thus  treated.  Fresh 
manure  is  very  injurious  to  the  bulbs,  and  never  should 
come  into  contact  with  them,  but  a  heavy  mulch  of  well- 
rotted  stuff  in  winter  is  advisable,  and  liquid  manure 
applied  during  the  growing  season  is  beneficial. 

Except  for  L.  candidum,  which  should  be  planted  in 
August,  Lilies  may  be  planted  any  time  in  the  autumn. 
When  the  bulbs  arrive  they  should  be  carefully  ex- 
amined and  all  torn  or  rotted  scales  removed,  and  if 
there  are  small  decayed  spots  these  should  be  rubbed 
with  powdered  charcoal  or  sulphurj  a  dusting  with 
powdered  sulphur  is  a  wise  precaution  in  any  case.  If 
Lilies  show  by  their  vigour  and  beauty  that  they  are  at 
peace  they  should  not  be  disturbed  until  they  show 
signs  of  overcrowding,  but  if  for  any  reason  it  is  neces- 
sary, or  desirable,  to  move  them  I  think  the  best  time  to 
do  it  is  when  the  bulb  is  in  early  growth.  It  may  be 
done  with  a  fair  measure  of  success  when  in  flower, 
which  is  sometimes  convenient  in  moving  wild  sorts 
from  their  native  home  to  the  garden,  the  important 
consideration  being  to  keep  the  bulb  out  of  the  ground 
for  as  short  a  space  as  possible. 

Of  course,  the  first  Lilies  to  engage  our  attention 
were  those  we  found  here,  and  these,  after  the  first  year, 


THE  LURE  OF  THE  LILY  181 

were  removed  to  the  new  garden  as  the  dooryard  was 
in  such  a  hopeless  tangle  that  it  required  strenuous 
measures.  The  Tiger  Lilies  suffered  the  change  most 
graciously,  but  the  lovely  white  Madonna  Lilies  have 
sulked  a  bit.  In  the  dooryard  they  had  probably  been 
left  absolutely  alone  for  years,  and  the  ground  over 
their  bulbs  was  baked  as  hard  as  iron,  and  these  con- 
ditions are,  the  wise  ones  tell  us,  exactly  what  this  Lily 
prefers:  it  will  stand  anything  save  damp  and  coddling, 
and  sometimes  it  will  do  well  and  sometimes  it  will  not, 
whatever  the  conditions.  Certainly  it  is  loveliest  of 
Lilies,  and  when  one  is  vouchsafed  a  truly  happy  group 
of  them,  shining  above  the  hoary  foliage  of  Southern- 
wood or  in  some  other  pleasant  association,  one  is  filled 
with  rejoicing.  One  may  dust  the  bulbs  well  with 
sulphur,  set  them  out  in  August  in  a  sunny  spot,  and 
leave  them  alone — and,  of  course,  one  may  hope. 

With  the  Tiger  Lilies  the  story  is  quite  different,  for 
they  seldom  have  the  heart  to  disappoint  any  one,  and 
they  are  among  the  very  finest  of  hardy  plants.  Many 
people  care  only  for  the  rare  and  difficult  in  the  floral 
world,  but  it  is  not  with  these  that  we  get  our  broad  and 
satisfying  colour  masses,  however  interesting  it  may  be 
to  conquer  and  bring  into  subjection  the  wild  spirit  of 
some  unwilling  plant  from  torrid  or  frigid  zone,  from 
mountain  peak  or  desert  sands,  and  the  ease  with  which 
this  Lily  may  be  coaxed  to  give  of  its  best,  and  the 
small  cost  at  which  it  may  be  procured,  should  not 


182  MY  GARDEN 

prevent  its  receiving  the  recognition  which  it  richly 
deserves. 

We  have  several  fine  colonies  of  Tiger  Lilies  in  our 
borders,  one  in  association  with  blue  and  white  Monks- 
hood  and  tall  white  Phlox  is  particularly  good,  and  an- 
other with  pale-yellow  Mulleins  and  metallic  Sea  Hollies 
is  also  good.  A  little  larger  and  finer  in  every  way  than 
the  common  Tiger  Lily  is  L.  tigrimum  var.  splendens,  and 
there  is  a  double  sort  which  is  not  an  improvement. 
Tiger  Lilies  belong  to  late  July  and  August. 

The  speciosum  Lilies  were  next  to  come  into  the  gar- 
den and  have  proved  themselves  entirely  trustworthy 
under  ordinary  garden  conditions.  There  is  the  frosted 
var.  album,  the  garnet- jewelled  var.  rubrum,  and  the 
more  brilliant  Melpomene,  and  I  think  there  are  still 
others.  These  Lilies  are  not  so  tall  as  the  Tigers,  but 
make  splendid  groups,  which  may  be  effectively  inter- 
mingled with  Dicentra  eximia.  They  bloom  in  late  Au- 
gust, and  their  refined  beauty  is  pleasing  in  this  season 
of  rank  foliage  and  high  colours. 

The  three  native  Lilies,  L.  superbum,  canadense,  and 
Philadelphicum,  are  well  worth  bringing  into  the  garden. 
Most  of  us  are  fortunate  enough  to  know  them  in  their 
natural  environment,  for  they  are  very  plentiful.  L. 
superbum  rises  superb  indeed  from  many  a  swamp  of  the 
middle  and  northern  states,  its  tall,  strong  stem  carry- 
ing from  twelve  to  twenty-five  orange-scarlet,  recurved 
blossoms  spotted  brown.  This  Lily  does  very  well  in 


THE  LURE  OF  THE  LILY  183 

good  garden  soil  if  given  a  bit  of  shade  and  a  ground 
cover.  It  blooms  in  July  and  August. 

Gay  L.  canadense  grows  about  here  in  the  low  mead- 
ows as  thickly  as  the  Buttercups,  and  I  have  trans- 
planted many  to  the  garden  borders  where  they  are 
quite  content,  save  in  very  dry  summers  when  my  water 
supply  is  low.  Philadelphicum,  not  quite  so  plentiful  as 
the  other  two,  is  still  fairly  familiar  to  many  of  us.  It 
grows  plentifully  on  Nantucket  Island  and  creates  a 
brilliant  spectacle,  holding  its  glistening  scarlet  flowers 
erectly  through  the  long  grass  of  dry  meadows.  This 
Lily  is  a  little  more  difficult  to  catch  and  tame  than 
the  two  others,  and  like  many  another  wild  thing  loses 
much  of  its  flash  and  individuality  when  brought  under 
restraint. 

We  have,  however,  in  the  elegans  type,  Lilies  much 
like  L.  philadelphicum  in  character.  They  are  orange  or 
scarlet  in  colour  and  are  carried  erectly.  These  are 
among  the  easiest  of  Lilies  to  manage.  I  have  them  in 
various  parts  of  the  garden,  but  mainly  in  borders  in  the 
west  and  south,  and  they  have  increased  at  a  great  rate. 
They  are  dwarf  in  stature,  usually  not  over  a  foot  high, 
and  some  are  less.  They  bloom  with  us  the  latter  part 
of  June,  and  there  are  many  fine  hybrids.  Of  these, 
Alice  Wilson  is  a  splendid  lemon-yellow  sort.  Other 
very  good  varieties  are  Peter  Barr,  soft  yellow;  Van 
Houttci,  bright  scarlet;  Orange  Queen — Prince  of 
Orange — apricot  with  black  spots.  I  believe  the  beau- 


184  MY  GARDEN 

tiful  L.  Batemanniae  is  a  member  of  the  elegans  family, 
though  it  is  not  usually  catalogued  as  such,  and  is  fully 
four  feet  tall  when  well  grown.  Its  Lilies  are  pure,  un- 
spotted apricot  in  colour,  and  they  are  carried  erectly. 
I  am  sorry  to  say  that  this  is  one  of  those  that  has  not 
quite  made  up  its  mind  about  our  garden,  but  I  am 
always  hoping  to  turn  the  tide  in  our  favour. 

One  more  splendidly  coloured,  erectly  carried  Lily  we 
have  in  the  garden,  and  this,  I  am  rejoiced  to  say,  is  not 
one  of  the  uncertainties.  No  finer  Lily  grows  than  L. 
croceum,  the  Orange  or  Herring  Lily  of  old  gardens.  It 
is  perfectly  hardy  and  will  thrive  in  full  sunshine  in  any 
good  garden  soil,  or  it  does  well  in  partial  shade.  It 
bears  several  soft  orange-coloured  flowers,  spotted  dull 
red,  on  a  four-foot  stalk,  and  it  blooms  with  the  Delphin- 
iums, with  which  it  is  very  charming. 

Two  other  Lilies  remain  that  are  doing  well  and  in- 
creasing in  this  garden:  the  vivid  little  L.  tenuifolium 
and  the  beautiful  Brownii.  The  former  is  a  Siberian 
and  grows  but  a  foot  and  a  half  high.  It  bears  from  six 
to  ten  small,  fiercely  scarlet,  waxen  Lilies  to  a  stalk,  and 
the  leaves  are  fine  and  numerous.  It  is  perfectly  hardy 
but  enjoys  a  shaded  spot,  and  its  slenderness  of  growth 
unfits  it  to  appear  with  large,  coarse  plants.  It  is 
a  brilliant  and  lovely  Lily,  particularly  happy  when 
grown  among  ferns.  The  fact  that  L.  Brownii  accepted 
our  garden  without  a  complaint  is  a  matter  for  much 
congratulation,  for  it  is  a  most  splendid  Lily  and  one  not 


THE  LURE  OF  THE  LILY  185 

considered  so  easy  to  manage.  It  grows  here  in  a  west 
border  in  very  light  soil  and  has  a  ground  cover  of  large- 
leaved  Saxifrages.  The  tall,  wandlike  stalks  carry  from 
two  to  four  ivory-coloured,  funnel-shaped  blooms,  the 
outside  of  which  is  a  soft  chocolate  colour,  and  the  orange- 
coloured  anthers  give  just  the  touch  of  brilliance  needed 
to  make  the  soft  harmony  of  ivory  and  chocolate  per- 
fect. It  blooms  in  late  July  and  early  August.  Damp- 
ness is  its  great  enemy  and  we  should  imitate  the  Japa- 
nese, who  lay  the  bulbs  upon  their  sides  to  prevent  water 
lodging  between  the  scales. 

From  now  on  the  recital  is  not  so  triumphant.  I 
planted  with  high  hopes  L.  Krameri,  also  known  as 
japonicum.  Just  once  it  bore  its  lovely  pink  funnel- 
shaped  flowers  and  forever  disappeared.  Mr.  Adams, 
in  his  very  helpful  book  "Lilies,"  which  I  did  not 
possess  at  the  time,  says  that  this  Lily  is  "very  erratic 
and  in  cold  climates  safest  in  pots.  Prefers  light,  rich, 
sandy  loam,  or  peat  and  good  drainage."  With  L. 
Washingtonianum  I  fared  no  better  and  know  now  that 
I  gave  none  of  the  conditions  that  the  poor  Lily  craved. 
It  is  one  of  the  Californians,  all  difficult  to  manage  in 
our  eastern  gardens,  but  this  one  said  to  be  less  so  than 
the  others  if  its  requirements  are  observed.  It  loves  a 
deep,  peaty  soil,  with  generous  additions  of  coarse  sand 
and  leaf -mold  and  never-failing  moisture — at  the  roots. 
Also  it  is  most  comfortable  in  partial  shade.  Humboldtii 
is  another  Californian,  something  like  superbum  in  ap- 


186  MY  GARDEN 

pearance,  but  taller,  which,  while  not  a  complete  failure 
here,  is  certainly  not  a  success.  It  prefers  a  deep,peaty 
soil,  and  is  not  at  all  of  a  mind  to  give  any  very  fine  show- 
ing on  plain  garden  fare.  L.  Hansoni*  I  have  hopes  of, 
for  while  its  blooms  this  year  were  few  and  poor,  it  was  its 
first  year  and  it  is  too  soon  to  put  it  down  as  a  complete 
failure.  This  Lily  is  bright  orange,  spotted  brown.  It 
has  rather  a  pleasant  perfume  and  its  petals  are  waxen 
and  reflexed.  Mr.  Adams  says  it  is  "quite  hardy  and 
easy  of  culture."  He  recommends  a  light  loam  and 
says  that  it  should  be  planted  among  shrubs  or  low 
plants  to  protect  the  young  shoots,  as  it  is  one  of  the 
earliest  Lilies  to  appear  in  spring. 

L.  auratum,  the  Gold  Banded  Lily  of  Japan,  is  by 
many  considered  the  finest  Lily  in  cultivation,  and 
certainly  it  is  the  largest  and  most  magnificent  of  my 
limited  acquaintance,  but  sad  to  tell  it  is  one  of  those 
which  will  not  accept  my  garden  as  its  home,  and  for  this 
I  owe  it  a  grudge,  for  I  would  dearly  love  to  have  it  and 
have  done  much  to  enchain  its  capricious  fancy.  It 
is  comforting  to  read  in  Mr.  C.  L.  Allen's  book  on  bulbs 
that  "L.  auratum  has  disappointed  more  of  its  admirers 
than  almost  any  other  Lily,  because  of  its  failure  to 
adapt  itself  to  our  soil  and  climate."  Many  authorities 
agree  that  this  Lily  must  be  renewed  every  three  or  four 
years,  as  it  "runs  out."  Its  preference  in  the  way  of 


*  Hansoni  has  improved  sufficiently  in  its  third  year  to  be  considered  one  of  those 
that  has  accepted  the  garden.    Humboldtii  is  also  getting  settled* 


THE  LURE  OF  THE  LILY  187 

soil  is  for  moist  peat  with  a  mixture  of  sand  and  leaf- 
mold,  and  it  particularly  requires  good  drainage  and 
partial  shade.  This  fine  Lily  grows  from  five  to  eight 
feet  tall  and  is  capable  of  bearing  twenty-five  superb 
white,  gold-banded  blossoms  on  a  single  stalk;  it  is  also 
capable  of  bearing  just  one,  as  I  know  from  sad  ex- 
perience. It  blooms  in  late  July  and  August. 

These  are  but  a  few  of  the  Lilies  at  our  command,  but 
it  is  as  far  as  I  have  got  with  the  Lily  lists.  The  follow- 
ing is  a  list  of  those  sorts  which  nearly  all  authorities 
agree  that  we  may  attempt  with  a  reasonable  assurance 
of  success: 

Lilium  Batemanniae  Lilium  Martagon 

Brownii  "  monadelphum 

bulbiferum  "  pardalinum 

canadense  "  philadelphicum 

candidum  "  pomponium 

chalcedonicum  "  pyrenaicum 

croceum  speciosum 

"       dauricum  "  superbum 

elegans  "  tenuifolium 

Grayi  "  testaceum 

Hansoni  "  tigrinum 

Henry  i  "  Washingtonianum 

"      Humboldtii 


CHAPTER  TWELVE 

WHO'S   WHO   AMONG   THE   ANNUALS 

Too  perfect  for  a  life  so  brief 
Seemed  every  star  and  bud  and  bell. 

— Celia  Thaxter. 

THE  feeling  that  annuals  do  not  quite  "belong" 
in  the  sense  that  the  regular  inhabitants  of  the 
garden  do  is  perhaps  an  unjust  one,  but  to 
this  sentiment  toward  them  I  must  plead  guilty.  Their 
reappearance  in  our  midst  is  entirely  a  matter  of  our 
whim,  while  the  hardy  herbaceous  plants,  save  in  case  of 
death,  accident,  or  misbehaviour,  are  sure  to  greet  us 
from  their  accustomed  places  every  spring.  I  love  the 
gay  summer  visitors,  but  do  not  want  too  many  of  them 
at  once.  They  give  to  the  garden  a  fugitive,  unstable 
quality,  like  that  felt  in  cities  where  every  one  lives  in 
an  apartment  and  moves  at  least  once  a  year,  and  there 
are  no  old  families,  or  traditions,  nor  anything  comfort- 
ably familiar  and  just  as  it  has  always  been.  Many 
annuals  do  their  best  to  overcome  their  transitory  nature 
by  sowing  then*  seeds  broadcast,  which,  in  the  case  of 
hardy  annuals,  come  safely  through  the  winter  and 
are  on  hand  with  the  perennials  to  meet  the  spring,  not, 
however,  in  their  proper  places,  but  all  over  the  garden, 

188 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   189 

with  a  nai've  disregard  for  the  premises  of  old  settlers, 
and  creating  havoc  in  various  of  our  cherished  colour 
schemes.  In  our  garden  the  English  Field  Poppy  is  a 
great  offender  along  this  line.  It  has  not  been  planted 
here  for  years,  but  every  summer  a  scarlet  tide  rises 
upon  the  garden,  holding  sway  for  almost  two  weeks, 
when,  "like  fires  extinguished  by  the  rain,"  it  is  gone. 
Each  year  I  say  it  shall  not  happen  again,  for  they  mean 
the  destruction  of  many  a  choice  colour  arrangement, 
but  not  yet  have  I  been  able  to  resist  their  blithe 
clamour,  or  their  flattering  assumption  of  the  quality  of 
mercy  in  me,  which  assures  their  safety,  even  in  the 
midst  of  the  pink  Pyrethrums. 

Sweet  Alyssum,  Cornflowers,  Love-in-a-mist,  Li- 
naria,  California  Poppies,  Sweet  Sultans,  Erysimums, 
Annual  Anchusa,  Balsams,  Marigolds,  Nicotiana,  Snap- 
dragons, Mignonette,  Candytuft,  and  Poppies  of  all  sorts 
are  among  those  that  do  their  best  to  become  permanent 
residents,  and  these  seedlings,  being  available  so  early  in 
the  year,  are  very  handy  for  filling  the  places  of  such 
recalcitrant  perennials  as  may  have  taken  themselves 
off  during  the  winter.  Indeed  this  is  one  of  the  im- 
portant uses  of  annuals.  No  winter  passes  but  takes 
its  toll  of  "hardy  "  plants,  and  we  have  not  always  others 
to  take  their  places,  or  do  not  care  to  go  to  the  expense 
of  buying,  so  that  we  should  be  grateful  to  this  class  of 
flowers  that  will,  for  five  or  ten  cents,  cover  the  dis- 
tressing blanks  with  loveliness.  Biennials,  too,  leave 


190  MY  GARDEN 

spaces  behind  them  to  be  filled,  and  there  are  also  the 
bulb  borders  and  beds. 

Annuals  are  splendid  for  cutting,  inexpensive,  pre- 
sent a  wide  range  of  colour,  form,  and  fragrance,  germi- 
nate and  develop  quickly,  and  bloom  with  prodigal  gen- 
erosity, all  of  which  are  good  reasons  for  having  plenty, 
but  not  in  the  flower  garden  proper — a  few  used  as 
fillers-in,  or  to  create  some  special  effect,  and  the  rest  in 
a  space  set  apart  for  cutting.  The  kitchen  garden  is 
usually  the  most  convenient  place. 

Annuals  are  known  as  hardy,  half-hardy,  and  tender. 
In  milder  climates  than  ours  many  hardy  annuals  are 
sown  in  autumn,  and  while  we  may  meet  with  some 
success  with  this  method  it  is  never  a  certainty,  and  I 
think  that  March  and  early  April  planting  of  hardy 
annuals  out  of  doors,  or  February  planting  indoors,  will 
prove  more  satisfactory.  Half-hardy  and  tender  an- 
nuals may  be  sown  out  of  doors  about  the  time  the 
farmers  are  planting  corn,  or  may  be  started  under 
glass  in  February,  which,  in  the  case  of  tender  annuals, 
is  a  great  advantage,  as  it  gives  them  a  start  ahead  of 
the  drought  that  often  gives  them  such  a  setback  as  to 
leave  them  permanently  stunted.  It  is  really  important 
to  know  this  difference  between  hardy  and  tender  sorts, 
for  an  early  sowing  outdoors  of  tender  annuals  will 
result  in  complete  loss,  while  a  too  late  sowing  of  hardy 
kinds  will  just  as  certainly  end  in  failure. 

This  class  of  plants  is  as  impatient  of  neglect  and 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   191 

adverse  conditions  as  any  other,  though  an  impression 
seems  to  exist  to  the  effect  that  a  little  scratching  of  the 
soil  and  scattering  of  seed  is  all  that  is  necessary  where 
annuals  are  concerned.  But  this  is  by  no  means  the 
case,  and  they  are  quite  as  capable  of  sulking  and  pre- 
senting a  spindling,  half-clothed  appearance  when  not 
suited  as  their  betters  in  higher  circles,  and  they  always 
repay  intelligent  attention.  In  the  first  place,  they  are 
nearly  all  sun  worshippers;  there  are  very  few  that  will 
endure  shade;  also  they  are  a  thirsty  lot  and  want 
moisture,  but  require  a  well-drained  soil,  deeply  dug,  and 
only  moderately  rich  with  manure.  Each  plant  must 
have  plenty  of  room  to  develop,  and  too  much  stress 
cannot  be  put  upon  this  point.  Especially  where  seed 
is  sown  where  it  is  to  remain,  and  comes  up  thickly,  un- 
merciful thinning  must  be  done,  or  a  very  poor  showing 
will  be  the  result.  It  is  economy  to  buy  only  the  best 
seeds,  and  better  effects  will  be  achieved  if  seeds  are 
bought  only  in  separate  colours  and  varieties.  The 
mixed  packet  is  better  let  alone.  A  long  period  of 
bloom  is  assured  if  no  seed  is  allowed  to  form,  for  an- 
nuals are  among  those  gracious  beings  who,  the  more 
you  take  from  them,  the  more  they  have  to  give.  A 
pinch  of  superphosphate,  given  to  each  little  plant  when 
set  out  and  the  ground  kept  cultivated  and  moist,  will 
mean  a  rich  and  speedy  reward. 

For  planting  among  the  perennials  I  think  the  follow- 
ing are  the  twelve  best  annuals: 


192  MY  GARDEN 

Stock,  Snapdragon,  Sweet-sultan,  Wallflower,  Mari- 
gold, Zinnia,  China  Aster,  Clarkia,  Nigella,  Nicotiana, 
Star  Chrysanthemum,  and  Salvia  Bluebeard. 

A  dozen  sorts  good  for  edging  are  these: 

California  Poppies,  Sweet  Alyssum,  Candytuft, 
Dwarf  Nasturtiums,  Chinese  and  Japanese  Pinks, 
French  Marigolds,  Silenes,  Phlox  Drummondii,  Nemo- 
phila,  Convolvulus  minor,  Sanvitalia  procumbens,  and 
Saponaria  calabrica. 

There  are  so  many  annuals  that  it  would  be  impos- 
sible to  speak  of  all,  and  so  in  the  following  notes  I  have 
chosen  only  those  which,  after  several  seasons'  trial  in 
the  gardens  here,  have  proven  their  usefulness  in  our 
dry  climate. 

The  letters  h.  a.,  h.h.a.,  and  t.a.,  stand  for  hardy,  half- 
hardy,  and  tender  annuals. 

Alyssum  maritimum,  h.  a.,  six  inches  to  one  foot.     Sweet  Alyssum. 

The  compact,  dwarf  varieties,  such  as  Little  Gem,  are  the  best  for 
edging.     Comes  into  bloom  very  early  and  continues  until  after 
hard  frost.     Best  sown  where  it  is  to  flower.     Fragrant. 
Anagallis  arvensis  var.  caerulea,  h.  h.  a.,  six  to  eight  inches.     Pim- 
pernel. 

A  charming  little  sky-blue  flowered  plant,  which  makes  pretty 
skylike  patches  along  the  front  of  the  border.     Best  started  under 
glass  and  set  out  in  May. 
Anchusa  capensis,  h.  a.,  eighteen  inches.     Cape  Forget-me-not. 

Branching  growth  and  pretty  forget-me-not-like  flowers  borne 
all  the  summer  and  autumn.     Nice  for  cutting  and  very  pretty  in 
the  borders.     Good  drought  resister. 
Argemone  mexicana,  h.  a.,  three  feet.     Chicalote. 

Bears  lovely  white  crepe  poppylike  flowers,  with  conspicuous 
golden  stamens.  Foliage  gray  and  prickly.  Too  free  a  seeder  to 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   193 

be  admitted  to  choice  situations,  but  splendid  for  waste  places, 
where  it  perpetuates  itself.     There  is  a  pale-yellow  sort. 
Asperula  azurea  var.  setosa,  h.  a.,  one  foot.     Blue  Woodruff. 

A  charming  responsive  little  plant,  which  cheerfully  defies  the 
drought  and  puts  up,  if  necessary,  with  a  poor  soil  and  shade. 
Bears  heads  of  clear  lavender-blue  flowers  on  stiff  stems.  Leaves 
in  whorls.  Pleasantly  fragrant. 

Callistephus  hortensis,  h.  h.  a.,  six  inches  to  three  feet.     China 
Aster. 

Beautiful  and  indispensable  flowers  for  the  late  summer  and 
autumn,  the  seeds  of  which  are  best  started  indoors,  or  in  a  frame, 
and  planted  out  in  May  when  all  danger  from  frost  is  past.  They 
like  a  light  soil,  deeply  dug  and  well  manured,  and  should  be 
watered  in  dry  weather. 

There  are  many  fine  types.  I  like  best  the  tall  branching  sorts 
known  as  Giant  Comet,  Ostrich  Feather,  and  Paeony,  which  grow 
as  tall  as  twenty  inches.  The  Victoria  Asters  are  pyramidal  in 
shape  and  bear  countless  blossoms  with  overlapping,  recurved 
petals.  There  is  another  beautiful  sort  of  rather  recent  introduc- 
tion, with  narrow  "channelled"  petals  that  are  twisted.  Single- 
flowered  Asters  have  lately  come  into  favour  and  are  very  pretty. 
The  prettiest  colours  are  shell-pink,  pale  lavender,  white,  and 
strong  purple. 

We  tried  last  year,  with  great  success,  a  very  weak  solution  of 
Paris  Green  for  the  voracious  aster  beetle.     It  did  not  injure  the 
plants  and  was  fatal  to  the  beetle. 
Antirrhinum  Majus,  h.  a.,  six  inches  to  three  feet.     Snapdragon. 

These  are  the  best  and  most  invaluable  of  annuals.  In  mild 
climates  and  occasionally  here  in  sheltered  places,  or  in  the  joints 
of  walls,  they  are  perennial.  For  early  bloom  the  seeds  should  be 
started  under  glass  in  February  and  March.  They  flower  all 
summer  and  autumn  and  cover  the  widest  range  of  colour.  The 
flame-coloured  ones  are  particularly  splendid,  and  also  those  de- 
scribed as  "apricot"  and  "chamois-rose."  Shell-pink  and  coral- 
pink,  "  old  "  pink  and  rose  are  lovely,  also  the  pure  white,  blood-red^ 
and  clear  yellow.  They  come  in  three  heights;  tall,  medium,  and 
dwarf.  The  medium  sorts  are  the  best  for  general  purposes.  The 


194  MY  GARDEN 

dwarf  kinds  are  most  satisfactory  for  the  joints  of  walls  and  may  be 
used  for  edgings  though  they  are  rather  stiff  for  this  purpose.     Fra- 
grant. 
Impatiens  Balsamina,  h.  a.,  two  feet.     Lady  Slipper,  Balsam. 

The  Camelia-flowered  sorts  are  the  best  and  come  in  clear  colours : 
salmon-rose,  scarlet,  and  pure  white.  If  inclined  to  grow  "leggy," 
instead  of  compact,  the  tops  may  be  nipped  off.  They  are  among 
the  flowers  that  find  it  difficult  to  maintain  their  improved  state 
and  are  forever  slipping  back  into  their  former  condition  of  magenta 
clothes  and  poor  figures,  so  self-sown  seedlings  should  not  be  al- 
lowed to  live. 
Brachycome  iberidifolia,  h.  h.  a.,  six  inches.  Swan  River  Daisy. 

Refined  little  plants,  with  many  blossoms  resembling  a  Cineraria 
— clear  lavender  with  a  black  and  white  central  disc.     The  plant  is 
rather  frail  and  is  comfortable  with  some  light  twigs  placed  in  front 
of  it.     It  makes  a  pretty  edging  for  a  summer  border. 
Browallia  elata,  h.  a.,  one  foot. 

These  form  trim  little  bushes  covered  with  blue  or  white  flowers 
over  a  long  period.     They  endure  drought  with  fortitude. 
Campanula  attica,  h.  h.  a.,  three  inches.     Bellflower. 

A  wee,  blue-belled  mite,  best  suited  to  a  rock  garden  or  a  stone- 
edged  border,  where  its  roots  may  find  shelter  and  moisture  among 
the  stones. 
Celosia,  t.  a.,  eighteen  inches.     Cockscomb. 

I  cannot  profess  to  any  great  enjoyment  in  the  great  flowers  of 
the  Cockscomb,  though  they  make  good  masses  of  colour  in  various 
shades  of  red,  scarlet,  salmon,  and  there  is  a  good  old  gold  sort. 
The  "feathered"  and  "plume"  varieties  are  better  and  less  realistic 
than  the  "crested."  They  should  be  started  indoors. 
Centaurea,  h.  a.,  Knapweed. 

In  this  family  are  several  very  good  annuals,  best  known  among 
which  is  cyanus,  the  friendly  little  Cornflower  of  so  true  a  blue. 
Once  planted  in  the  garden  one  will  find  the  pleasant  tufts  of 
leaves  every  year,  for  the  seed  is  very  hardy  and  this  simple  flower 
desires  greatly  to  stay  among  the  "regulars."  There  are  pink  and 
white  sorts,  but  these  are  rather  faded  looking.  A  double  sort  is 
very  pretty. 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   195 

Centaurea  imperialis  (Sweet  Sultan)  is  one  of  the  most  beautiful 
of  annuals,  bearing,  until  frost,  long-stemmed,  fragrant  flowers,  in 
shades  of  mauve,  purple,  and  white — unrivalled  for  cutting.  They 
grow  about  two  feet  tall  and  love  a  sunny  situation.  They  resent 
disturbance  and  so  should  be  sown  where  they  are  to  flower,  and 
well  thinned  to  insure  perfect  development. 

C.  americana  (American  Basket  Flower)  is  less  well  known,  but 
is  an  extremely  handsome  plant  with  large,  beautiful  lavender 
flowers. 
CheiranthuSy  h.  a.,  eighteen  inches.     Wallflower. 

Sweet  and  homely  is  the  yellow  wallflower  "stained  with  iron- 
brown."  The  annual  variety  known  as  "Parisian  extra  early,"  h* 
sown  under  glass  in  March,  will  bloom  all  summer  and  autumn  and 
provide  many  a  nosegay  of  deliciously  scented  flowers.  There 
are  all  shades  of  yellow,  red,  and  russet. 
Chrysanthemum,  h.  a. 

Among  Annual  Chrysanthemums  those  known  as  the  "star- 
group"  are  the  finest:  Morning  Star,  Evening  Star,Eastern  Star,and 
Northern  Star.  They  make  bushy  plants  about  eighteen  inches 
high,  and  bear  many  large  daisylike  flowers  in  shades  of  yellow 
and  orange.  They  are  long  stemmed,  and  good  for  cutting  and  last 
well  in  water.  Another  good  sort  is  C.  inodorum  plenissimum.  var. 
Bridal  Robe,  which  grows  eighteen  inches  tall  and  is  covered 
with  snowy  bloom.  Lord  Beaconsfield  and  Chamelion,  which 
bear  handsome  crimson  and  gold  flowers,  are  also  useful.  The 
Chrysanthemums  are  easy  of  culture,  asking  only  full  sunshine  and 
a  good  rich  soil. 
Clarkia  elegans,  h.  a.,  two  and  a  half  feet. 

Attractive,  branching  plants,  carrying  well-clothed  flower  spikes 
of  scarlet,  salmon-pink,  or  white.     These  flowers  are  very  beautiful, 
and  in  good  soil  and  sunshine  will  bloom  all  summer  if  not  allowed 
to  seed. 
Convolvulus  minor,  eight  inches,  h.  a.,  Dwarf  Morning  Glory. 

It  is  impossible  to  imagine  anything  much  prettier  than  the  wide, 
blue-eyed  C.  tricolour  with  white  throat  and  yellow  decorations. 
These  baby  Morning  Glories  stay  wide  open  all  day  and  make  nice 
little  spreading  bushes,  very  pretty  and  useful  along  the  front 


196  MY  GARDEN 

of  the  borders.     Sow  where  they  are  to  flower.    They  bloom  all 

summer. 

Cosmos,  t.  a.,  six  feet. 

This  is  the  tallest  and  latest  flowering  annual.  The  seed  is  best 
started  indoors  and  set  out  when  danger  of  frost  is  past  in  good  soil 
and  a  sheltered  position,  giving  each  plant  several  feet  of  room  for 
development.  The  lovely  flowers  are  pink,  rose,  and  white.  The 
variety  known  as  Lady  Lenox  is  a  lovely  pink  and  very  large  flow- 
ered, and  there  is  also  a  white  Lady  Lenox. 
Delphinium,  h.  a.,  three  feet.  Annual  Larkspurs. 

Invaluable  plants  for  cutting,  as  well  as  for  garden  decoration. 
The  long  spikes  of  flowers  are  pink,  rose,  lavender,  purple,  and 
white.  They  are  best  sown  very  early  in  spring  where  they  are  to 
flower,  and  well  thinned  when  an  inch  or  so  high.  There  are  various 
forms,  but  I  think  the  "tall  branched"  is  the  best. 
Dianthus  Chinensis,  h.  a.,  six  to  twelve  inches.  Indian  Pink. 

Floriferous  little  plants,  jewel-like  in  their  brilliance  and  with  the 
charm  common  to  all  Pinks.  They  are  lovely  for  edging  and  come 
in  many  good  varieties.  Crimson  Belle  is  a  very  bright  single; 
Purity,  a  lovely  double  white;  Fireball,  double  and  very  bright; 
Mourning  Cloak  is  double  and  dark  crimson  strikingly  edged  with 
white.  Salmon  Queen,  which  may  be  had  either  single  or  double,  is 
a  beautiful  colour,  and  Lucifer  is  a  splendid  new  sort  with  dazzling 
scarlet  flowers  with  fringed  edges.  Often  these  plants  will  survive 
a  winter  and  bloom  early  the  following  spring. 
Dimorphotheca  aurantiaca,  twelve  to  fifteen  inches,  h.  h.  a.  Na- 
maqualand  Daisy. 

This  gorgeous  South  African  is  a  newcomer  to  our  gardens  and 
is  so  good  that  it  bids  fair  to  make  some  of  the  old  sorts  look  to 
their  laurels.  The  great  daisy  like  flowers  are  a  beautiful  warm 
salmon-orange  in  colour,  with  a  black  central  ring.  It  blooms  all 
summer  and  seems  oblivious  to  drought.  If  started  outdoors, 
early  May  is  time  enough. 
Erysimum  Arkansanum,  h.  a.,  eighteen  inches.  Alpine  Wallflower. 

This  and  E.  Peroskianum  are  lovely  annuals,  bearing  their  gay 
yellow  or  orange  flowers  all  summer  if  not  allowed  to  go  to  seed. 
They  are  much  like  Wallflowers  and  are  fragrant. 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   197 

Eschscholtzia,  h.  a.,  six  to  eight  inches.     California  Poppy. 

Prettiest  and  gayest  of  annuals,  with  finely  cut  gray  foliage  and 
cupshaped  flowers  in  every  delectable  shade  of  cream,  orange,  scar- 
let, yellow,  and  soft  yellowy-salmon.  They  adore  the  sun  and  scorn 
the  drought  and  have  no  bad  traits  of  any  sort.  The  hardy  seed  is 
fond  of  roving  and  makes  itself  comfortable  in  the  chinks  of  walls 
and  steps  and  in  all  sorts  of  seemingly  unlikely  places.  There  are 
many  good  varieties  but  none  any  better  than  the  common  cali- 
fornica.  Sow  where  they  are  to  flower. 
Godetia,  h.  a.,  one  to  two  feet. 

Cheerful  flowers,  generous  in  bloom  h*  given  a  rich,  dry  soil, 
plenty  of  air  and  sunshine,  and  room  to  develop.  They  may  be 
planted  out  or  started  indoors  for  earlier  bloom.  Prettiest  in  rather 
large  groups  of  one  kind.  Some  good  sorts  are  Lady  Satin  Rose, 
deep  pink,  one  foot;  Duchess  of  Albany,  pure  white,  one  foot; 
Sunset,  dwarf  carmine;  Crimson  King,  one  foot;  Princess  of  Wales, 
Ruby-coloured  pencilled  with  gray. 
Gypsophila,  h.  a.,  eighteen  inches.  Chalk  Plant. 

G.  elegans  is  very  useful  for  cutting — somewhat  resembling  its 
perennial  relation  with  cloudlike  masses  of  small  white  flowers. 

G.  muralis  is  a  tiny  plant  only  a  few  inches  tall,  looking  when  in 
bloom  like  a  wee  sunset  cloud.     We  grow  it  here  in  the  joints  of 
steps  and  walls  as  it  is  too  frail  for  the  open  garden. 
Helianthus,  h.  a.,  three  to  four  feet.     Sunflower. 

Some  of  the  annual  Sunflowers  are  very  pretty,  those  known  as 
C.  cucumerifolius  in  both  single  and  double  forms  are  the  best. 
Any  situation  where  the  sun  shines  is  comfortable  for  them. 
Iberis,  h.  a.,  four  to  eight  inches.     Candytuft. 

These  are  charming  for  edgings  or  for  spreading  patches  at  the 
front  of  the  borders.  The  great  white  Empress  is  the  handsomest, 
but  the  rose  and  lilac  sorts  are  pretty  and  the  little  old  "sweet 
scented"  is  always  welcome.  They  may  be  planted  outdoors 
where  they  are  to  grow. 
lonopsidium  acaule,  h.  a.,  three  inches.  Violet  Cress. 

A  diminutive  little  plant  with  tiny  pale  lavender  or  white 
flowers,  very  lovely  in  the  rockery,  in  the  cracks  between  bricks  or 
steps.  Self -sows  freely.  The  seed  is  very  small  and  should  be 
lightly  pressed  into  the  soil  and  not  covered. 


198  MY  GARDEN 

Lavatera  tremestris  var.  rosea  splendens,  h.  h.  a.,  three  feet.    Mallow. 

This  lovely  Mallow  loves  a  rich,  deeply  dug  soil  and  a  sunny  ex- 
posure.    It  is  a  large  plant  requiring  room  to  develop,  so  the  seed- 
lings should  be  thinned  to  eighteen  inches  apart.     Sow  in  April 
where  it  is  to  flower  and  water  in  dry  weather. 
Leptosiphon  hybridus,  h.  a.,  two  to  four  inches. 

Gay  little  annuals  too  small  and  frail  save  for  rockwork  or  the 
chinks  of  walls,  steps,  etc.     The  foliage  is  threadlike.     It  is  best  in 
a  partially  shaded  situation  and  loves  a  loamy  soil.     Seeds  should 
be  shown  in  March  and  early  April  where  they  are  to  grow. 
Linaria,  h.  a.,  one  foot.     Toadflax. 

The  annual  Toadflaxes  are  pretty  enough  to  justify  a  few  gay 
patches  along  the  edge  of  the  borders.  The  blossoms  are  like  small 
Snapdragons  and  come  in  pretty  soft  shades. 

Linum  grandiflorum,  h.  h.  a.,  twelve  to  fourteen  inches.     Scarlet 
Flax. 

This  is  a  truly  beautiful  plant  with  delicate  foliage  and  wine-red 
blossoms.  It  does  not  bloom  all  summer,  so  I  like  to  make  two 
sowings,  as  I  do  not  like  to  be  without  it.  It  wants  a  sunny  situa- 
tion and  good  soil  and  the  seedlings  should  be  severely  thinned  so  as 
to  induce  a  bushy,  self-supporting  growth. 
Lupinus,  h.  a.,  one  to  two  feet.  Lupine. 

These  are  as  beautiful  as  the  perennial  varieties.  The  tall 
spikes  of  pealike  flowers  come  in  various  colours — all  charming. 
L.  Menziesii  forms  a  nice  bush  eighteen  inches  high  and  bears 
lovely  yellow  flowers.  L.  mutabilis,  with  pretty  rose  and  white 
flowers,  is  charming,  also  a  variety  of  this  called  Cruickshanki  with 
blue,  white,  and  yellow  flowers.  This  grows  four  feet  high.  There 
is  a  lovely  white  sort  and  one  called  hybridus  atro-coccineus  with 
gay  crimson  flowers  tipped  with  white  that  is  one  of  the  best. 

The  large  seeds  should  be  planted  two  inches  below  the  surface 
of  the  soil  where  they  are  to  remain,  in  good  soil  and  sunshine.     In 
dry  weather  the  plants  require  liberal  watering. 
Mangold,  h.  a. 

I  like  everything  about  this  plant.  His  grand  trumpeting  colour, 
his  nice  gig-saw  foliage,  his  clean,  pungent  odour,  and,  most  of  all, 
his  kindly  nature.  This  is  a  plain  fellow,  and  plain  living  suits  him 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   199 

best,  but  once  in  a  while  my  heart  gets  the  better  of  my  reason  and 
I  feed  him  up  a  bit,  but  alas,  right  away  he  loses  his  head  and 
sprawls  all  over  the  place,  his  upstanding  carriage  gone  and  his 
great  blossoms  fit  to  burst.  I  cannot  imagine  a  garden  without 
Marigolds,  from  the  great  lemon  and  orange  Africans  to  the  deb- 
onair little  French  fellows  in  brown  and  gold  which  are  so  neat  and 
tidy  and  shining  along  the  edges  of  the  borders.  They  may  be 
started  under  glass  or  sown  out  of  doors  where  they  are  to  grow. 
Matthiola,  h.  h.  a.,  eighteen  to  twenty-four  inches.  Stock,  Gilly- 
flower. 

Lovely  in  form  and  foliage,  colour  and  fragrance  are  the  Ten 
Weeks  Stocks.  Next  to  Snapdragons  I  think  they  are  the  best  of 
annuals  for  planting  among  perennials.  There  are  various  forms 
offered,  all  of  which  are  good;  and  the  colours,  buff,  white,  blush, 
pink,  rose,  crimson,  mauve,  and  purple  are  all  pretty,  but  my  own 
choice  is  for  double  Stocks  in  the  pale  shades,  white,  buff,  and  tender 
pink.  Seeds  may  be  planted  out  of  doors  when  all  danger  of  frost 
is  past,  but  it  is  more  satisfactory  to  start  them  under  glass  and  set 
the  young  plants  out  in  May. 

Matthiola  bicornis  is  the  Night-scented  Stock,  a  shy,  inconspicu- 
ous little  plant  about  a  foot  high,  which  withholds  its  fine  perfume 
from  the  day  but  pours  it  forth  to  the  night.  It  is  pleasant  to  have 
a  few  patches  of  this  stock  about  the  garden  for  the  sake  of  its 
sweetness. 
Nemesia,  twelve  to  eighteen  inches. 

These  are  charming  flowers  showing  jewel-like  colours  and  having 
a  long  period  of  bloom.  N.  strumosa,  Sutton's  variety,  is  the  finest 
strain.  Blue  Gem  is  a  dwarfer  sort  with  lovely  sky-blue  flowers. 
In  our  climate  Nemesias  are  started  in  flats  or  frames  in  March  to 
give  them  a  good  start  ahead  of  dry  weather.  When  set  out  in  the 
garden  they  will  need  five  or  six  inches  between  them,  and  if  the 
central  shoot  is  nipped  off,  a  bushy,  branching  growth  will  follow. 
A  rich  loam  with  the  addition  of  a  little  wood  ashes  is  the  best  soil 
for  them. 
Nemophila  insignis,  h.  a.,  three  to  four  inches.  Love  Grove. 

A  truly  lovely  little  flower,  sky-blue  with  a  shining  white  eye.  It 
will  do  well  anywhere  in  good  soil,  but  in  partial  shade  and  soil,  a 


200      .  MY  GARDEN 

little  damp,  it  creates  a  brave  show  indeed.     For  small  beds  and 
borders  no  prettier  edging  could  be  had. 
Nicotiana  affinis,  h.  a.,  three  feet.     White  Tobacco. 

Both  this  plant  and  the  hybrid  N.  Sanderae,  the  flowers  of  which 
are  in  shades  of  soft  pink,  are  good  annuals  for  our  dry  climate  and 
are  striking  enough  to  fill  quite  prominent  places  at  the  back  of  the 
border.  They  bloom  until  after  hard  frost.  The  perfume  of  the 
White  Tobacco  is  very  delicious  at  night  and  the  tubular  blossoms 
have  a  shimmering  quality  which  makes  them  very  charming  in  the 
moonlit  garden. 
Nigella  damascene,,  h.  a.,  eighteen  inches.  Love-in-a-mist. 

Of  all  blue  annuals  this  is  the  bluest  and  the  quaintest,  the  most 
old  fashioned  and  the  prettiest.  The  variety  named  for  Miss 
Jekyll  is  the  best  and  bluest  and  will  bloom  all  summer  long  if  seed 
does  not  form.  It  dislikes  transplanting,  so  should  be  sown  where 
it  is  to  flower  and  thinned  out  to  five  inches  apart.  It  is  very 
charming  planted  near  Gypsophila  paniculata. 
Papaver,  h.  a.,  Poppy. 

These  creations  of  heat  and  light,  of  silken  gauze  and  crinkled 
crepe,  have  no  peers  for  colour  and  texture  in  the  floral  kingdom. 
They  are  like  dainty  bits  of  finery,  and  as  such  must  we  use  them  in 
the  garden,  for  their  beauty  is  ephemeral  and  they  leave  sad  blanks 
behind  them.  One  could  hardly  give  a  list  of  the  best  annual 
Poppies,  for  they  are  many  and  all  so  lovely  as  to  make  choice 
difficult,  but  a  few  which  seem  to  me  particularly  beautiful  are: 
Charles  Darwin,  shades  of  mauve-pink,  single;  Danish  Cross,  strik- 
ing scarlet  and  white,  single;  Miss  Sherwood,  lovely  salmon-pink 
and  white,  single;  the  Bride,  pure  white,  single;  Dainty  Lady, 
pinky-mauve,  single,  and  the  lovely  Shirleys,  in  all  the  finest  shades 
of  pink  and  scarlet.  Besides  the  single  sorts  are  various  double- 
flowered  Poppies,  like  powder  puffs  and  globes  of  fringed  petals. 
These  are  known  as  Carnation-flowered  and  Pseony-flowered  and 
may  be  had  in  as  lovely  shades  as  the  singles. 

It  is  my  experience  that  Poppy  seed  should  be  sown  as  early  in  the 
spring  as  possible,  in  March  or  early  in  April,  and  it  is  well  to  choose 
a  windless  day  as  the  seed  is  very  fine  and  will  be  blown  in  all  direc- 
tions, and  it  should  be  sown  very  thinly  where  it  is  to  remain. 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   201 

Petunia,  h.  h.  a. 

This  has  long  filled  a  useful  place  in  our  gardens  and  is  very  pretty 
if  care  is  used  in  selecting  colours,  for  some  are  not  good.  The  soft 
frilly  white  ones  are  the  prettiest  and  are  very  nice  along  the  edges 
of  borders  or  for  filling  beds.  Mr.  Speer,  in  his  fine  book  on  Annuals, 
says,  "Propagate  the  seeds  by  sowing  on  the  surface  of  a  compost 
of  loam,  leaf-mold,  and  sand  in  well-drained  pans,  in  February  or 
March  in  a  temperature  of  65  degrees."  In  late  May  they  may  be 
set  out  in  the  garden,  allowing  each  plant  plenty  of  room  for  develop- 
ment. 
Phacelia  campanularia,  h.  a. 

This  is  a  fine  bushy  little  plant  for  the  front  of  the  border,  with 
clear  blue  bell-shaped  flowers  and  gray-green  foliage  curiously 
marked  with  claret.     It  may  be  sown  out  of  doors  in  early  spring, 
and  is  grateful  for  good  garden  soil  and  sunshine. 
Phlox  Drummondii,  t.  a. 

This  is  an  invaluable  plant  for  edging  as  well  as  for  beds,  and 
comes  in  a  great  number  of  delightful  colours.  We  raise  them  in 
the  frames  and  set  out  in  May  but  they  may  be  sown  late  out  of 
doors  if  so  desired.  They  love  a  sunny  situation,  and  a  rich,  well- 
drained  soil  and  a  pinch  of  lime  given  to  each  little  plant  heartens 
them  up  greatly.  If  the  plants  are  inclined  to  grow  straggly  the 
tops  may  be  nipped  off  the  leading  shoots.  They  bloom  all  summer. 
Reseda,  h.  a.,  Mignonette. 

No  garden  would  deserve  the  name  without  generous  plantings  of 
sweet-breathed  Mignonette.  With  us  it  self -sows  freely,  and  I  am 
always  grateful  for  these  gratuitous  patches  of  sweetness  wherever 
they  appear  in  the  garden. 

To  have  Mignonette  at  its  best  the  soil  should  be  somewhat  damp, 
but  it  will  do  well  enough  under  ordinary  garden  conditions.  The 
seed  may  be  sown  out  of  doors  early  in  April,  and  the  young  plants 
should  be  well  thinned.  Some  of  the  good  varieties  are  Machet, 
Golden  Machet,  Defiance,  Parson's  White,  and  Pyramidal. 
Salpiglossis  t.  a.,  two  feet.  Painted  Tongue. 

The  blossoms  of  the  Salpiglossis  are  much  like  a  Petunia  in  shape, 
but  there  the  resemblance  ends,  for  few  flowers  present  such  esthetic 
colour  schemes — smoked  pearl,  soft  amaranth,  rose,  burnished 


202  MY  GARDEN 

purple,  delicate  buff,  and  all  with  pencillings  or  flushes  of  deeper 
colour.     Being  tender  annuals,  they  are  best  started  indoors  and 
set  out  in  late  May  in  a  sunny  situation. 
Salvia. 

The  scarlet  Salvia  is  too  well  known  to  need  description.  Its 
colour  is  the  most  difficult  to  harmonize  and  the  most  recklessly 
used  in  the  floral  kingdom.  Divers  coloured  houses  rise  from  the 
midst  of  its  surrounding  flames,  beds  of  it  break  up  many  a  fair 
stretch  of  lawn,  and  it  utterly  cows  and  overpowers  flowers  of  less 
strong  colour  in  its  neighbourhood.  It  never  tempts  me,  neither 
Pride  of  Zurich,  Bonfire,  nor  the  rest,  but  they  may  easily  be  had  by 
planting  the  seed  indoors  in  February  or  March,  or  young  plants 
may  be  purchased  from  any  florist.  The  variety  of  Salvia  hormi- 
num  called  Bluebeard  is  quite  a  different  matter,  the  rich  blue-pur- 
ple of  its  terminal  bracts  being  long  lasting  and  most  valuable  in  the 
garden.  The  seeds  are  hardy  and  may  be  sown  out  of  doors  very 
early. 
Sanvitalia  procumbens,  h.  a. 

A  small,  indomitable  trailer,  quite  smothered  from  early  July 
until  frost  with  tiny  sunflower-like  blossoms.     The  colour  is  a  trifle 
raw,  but  the  whole  plant  is  so  thrifty  and  cheerful  that  one  cannot 
but  enjoy  it.     Good  for  edging. 
Saponaria  calabrica,  h.  a.,  Soapwort. 

This  plant  is  as  cheerfully  pink  as  the  foregoing  is  cheerfully 
yellow  and  resembles  it  in  its  trailing  habit.     It  resists  dry  weather 
very  well,  and  where  a  pink  edging  is  wanted  nothing  could  be 
prettier. 
Scabiosa,  h.  a.,  Sweet  Scabius. 

This  is  a  popular  and  easily  cultivated  annual  very  nice  for  cut- 
ting as  the  pretty  flower  heads  are  borne  on  long  stems  and  come 
in  a  large  variety  of  charming  colours,  among  which  may  be  found 
maroon  so  dark  as  to  be  almost  black,  besides  mauve,  scarlet,  pink, 
buff,  white,  and  others.  Fragrant. 
Silene  pendula  rosea,  h.  a.,  four  to  six  inches. 

This  is  a  nice  little  plant  for  edging,  which,  when  covered  with  its 
bright  pink  blossoms,  is  very  gay  and  pretty  indeed.  If  it  is  wanted 
all  through  the  summer  several  sowings  should  be  made. 


WHO'S  WHO  AMONG  THE  ANNUALS   203 

Verbena. 

These  are  best  started  indoors  and  set  in  their  permanent  places 
in  May.  They  come  in  several  nice  colours,  the  salmon-pink  being 
particularly  pretty.  If  the  branches  are  pegged  down  with  wire 
hairpins  when  they  begin  to  "run,"  they  will  cover  the  ground 
closely  and  bloom  until  killed  by  frost.  Verbenas  like  a  rich  soil 
and  full  sun  and  will  thrive  where  many  a  more  thirsty  plant  will 
fail. 
Zinnia,  h.  h.  a.,  eighteen  inches  to  two  feet.  Youth  and  Old  Age. 

These  are  so  often  bought  "mixed"  and  present  so  garish  an 
appearance  that  many  people  are  ignorant  of  the  really  fine  effects 
to  be  gotten  from  seeds  obtained  in  separate  colours  and  planted  in 
harmonious  groups.  The  blossoms  have  a  curious  lustreless  quality 
to  their  colours  which  is  rather  attractive  and  run  into  all  sorts  of 
off  shades  which  are  useful.  There  is  a  pretty  ashen  pink  sort,  a 
good  bronzy  yellow,  a  soft  cream,  a  fine  salmon,  and  a  rich,  dark  red. 
Plain  food  and  full  sun  is  all  they  require. 
The  Everlastings. 

One  summer  I  tried  in  the  nursery  a  number  of  these  annual 
flowers,  which,  on  account  of  their  strawlike  texture  and  keeping 
qualities,  are  called  "everlasting."  Many  of  them  are  quite  pretty 
enough  for  garden  decoration  even  though  one  does  not  care  for 
the  stiff  bouquets  for  winter  use.  I  am  fond  of  these  old-fashioned 
posies  and  like  always  to  have  a  few.  The  colours  remain  almost 
undirnmed  if  the  flowers  are  gathered  just  before  they  are  fully 
expanded  and  hung  head  downward  in  a  dry  cool  place.  I  remem- 
ber, when  a  little  girl  in  Baltimore,  that  in  the  open-air  markets  for 
which  that  city  is  justly  famous  there  were  always  several  stalls 
devoted  to  the  sale  of  Everlasting  decorations.  Many  of  these 
were  funeral  wreathes  and  crosses,  but  others  were  the  gayest  of 
elaborately  arranged  bouquets  for  the  mantelpiece  or  centre  table. 

Helichrysum  is  the  Immortelle  of  the  French,  the  favourite  flower 
for  memorial  emblems.  It  is  very  pretty  indeed,  being  globular 
in  form  with  crisp,  incurving  petals.  It  comes  in  various  colours, 
scarlet,  salmon,  russet,  yellow,  and  a  good  white  called  Silver  Queen. 
They  self -sow  in  our  garden  so  we  are  sure  of  one  winter  bouquet  at 
least. 


204  MY  GARDEN 

Acroclinium  is  a  half-hardy  annual  growing  about  two  and  a  hah* 
feet  tall  bearing  starlike  flowers  about  an  inch  across  in  soft  rose- 
lilac  or  white  and  with  grayish  foliage.  The  winged  Everlasting, 
Ammobium  alatum,  has  small  white  flowers  with  a  yellow  centre 
and  is  very  quaint  and  pretty.  It  is  a  hardy  annual  which  blooms 
all  summer  long.  Gnaphalium  foetidum  is  also  a  hardy  annual 
and  much  like  the  foregoing  save  as  to  colour  which  is  yellow. 
Helipterum  is  yellow  and  in  shape  like  the  Helichrysums,  but  it 
loses  its  nice  golden  colour  when  dried  and  becomes  rather  a  dull 
green. 

The  Rhodanthes  are  extremely  pretty  with  their  pink  blossoms 
pendent  upon  slender  stems.  R.  Manglesii,  called  the  Swan  River 
Everlasting,  has  charming  rose-coloured  rosettes  with  yellow  cen- 
tres. The  foliage  of  these  plants  is  broad  and  pleasant  and  they 
grow  about  fourteen  inches  high.  They  do  not  like  to  be  moved, 
but  as  they  are  very  tender  must  either  be  started  indoors  and 
transplanted  with  a  ball  of  earth,  or  sown  out  of  doors  in  May 
where  they  are  to  remain. 

The  double  flowers  of  Xeranthemum  annuum  are  particularly  old- 
fashioned  looking  and  rather  sombre  in  their  violet  and  purple 
colouring.  They  grow  about  two  feet  tall  and  may  be  sown  out 
of  doors  in  April.  The  Globe  Amaranthe  with  its  round,  frankly 
magenta  blooms  is  one  of  my  favourites.  It  blooms  all  summer 
long  and  the  bunches  of  bright  coloured  flowers  are  very  cheery 
when  the  long  white  days  are  upon  us.  It  may  be  sown  out  of 
doors  after  danger  from  frost  is  past.  The  Everlastings  are  very 
attractive  grown  in  association  with  the  annual  and  perennial 
grasses. 


CHAPTER  THIRTEEN 

SHRUBS 

"Shrubs  there  are, 
.     .     .     that  at  the  call  of  spring 
Burst  forth  in  blossomed  fragrance." 

— Thomson's  Seasons. 

THE  uses  of  shrubs  are  manifold  and  diverse.  In- 
valuable as  screens  to  hide  unsightly  objects, 
lovely  to  shroud  and  soften  the  hard  line  be- 
tween house  and  ground,  useful  as  an  underplanting  to 
tall  trees,  as  a  background  to  herbaceous  borders,  as 
hedges,  windbreaks,  or  as  an  edging  to  walks  and  drives. 
These  are  but  a  few  of  the  ways  in  which  they  will  help 
us  in  our  gardening,  and  when  we  remember  that  our 
climate  is  particularly  adapted  to  the  fine  development 
of  shrubs  the  wonder  is  that  we  do  not  see  them  more 
and  better  grown. 

For  myself,  I  do  not  care  for  what  is  called  the 
"  mixed  shrubbery."  Too  often  it  is  made  up  of  a  large 
variety  of  kinds  so  tightly  packed  that  the  efforts  of  the 
plants  are  expended  mainly  in  a  struggle  for  mere  exist- 
ence and  the  gracious,  sweeping  outlines,  of  which  this 
class  of  plants  is  capable,  are  quite  lacking.  A  shrub- 
bery border  is  indeed  desirable  in  many  situations,  but  I 

205 


206  MY  GARDEN 

feel  that  it  should  be  much  simpler  in  its  construction 
than  is  usually  the  case — large  groups  of  a  few  kinds 
chosen  for  their  suitability  to  be  neighbours  and  blend- 
ing irregularly  one  into  the  other,  each  shrub  being  given 
ample  room  to  develop,  even  though  the  border  must 
look  a  trifle  bare  for  a  season  or  two.  Occasionally 
evergreens  are  a  grateful  change  in  the  shrubbery  bor- 
der, and  underplanting  along  the  front  is  very  desirable. 
A  few  low-growing  subjects  suitable  for  this  purpose  are: 

Hypericum  calycinum,  one  foot. 

Moserianum,  twelve  to  eighteen  inches. 
Jasminum  nudiflorum.     Naked  Jasmine.     (Trailing.) 
Vinca  minor,  eight  inches. 
Daphne  Cneorum,  one  foot. 

"       Mezereum,  two  and  a  half  feet. 
Euonymus  radicans,  one  and  a  half  feet. 
Cotoneaster  horizontalis.     (Trailing.) 

Simonsii. 

Berberis  Thunbergii,  two  to  three  feet. 
Ivy.     (Prostrate.) 
Azalea  amoena,  three  feet. 
Gaultheria  procumbens — creeping. 
Andromeda  floribunda. 

"          polifolia,  one  foot. 

Colonies  of  spring-flowering  bulbs  are  charming 
scattered  beneath  and  in  front  of  the  shrubs,  and  many 
gay  pictures  may  be  created  with  their  aid. 

This  class  of  plants  is  not  as  a  rule  peremptory  in  its 
cultural  demands,  and  for  this  reason  we  have  fallen  into 
the  way  of  imposing  upon  their  kindly  nature  and  stick- 
ing them  into  a  shallow  hole  in  any  sort  of  soil  and  situ- 


SHRUBS  207 

ation,  whether  conducive  to  the  health  of  the  plant  or 
not,  and  then  feeling  quite  put  out  when  the  poor  shrub 
fails  to  come  up  to  our  glowing  expectations. 

Shrubs  appreciate  a  broad  and  deep  hole,  with  the 
soil  at  the  bottom  well  broken  up.  It  should  be  broad 
enough  to  admit  of  the  roots  being  spread  out  comfort- 
ably, and  deep  enough  to  enable  us  to  set  the  shrub  at 
least  two  inches  deeper  than  it  was  before — which  may 
usually  be  determined  by  the  soil-mark  upon  the  stem. 
The  shrub  should  be  set  firmly  in  the  ground  and  the 
earth  well  pressed  down  as  it  is  filled  in.  A  pail  of 
water  poured  into  the  hole  when  partially  filled  settles 
the  earth  around  the  shoots  thoroughly.  As  little  delay 
as  possible  in  planting  should  follow  the  arrival  of  an 
order  of  shrubs,  and  if  the  consignment  is  large  the  roots 
of  those  waiting  for  attention  should  be  covered  with 
damp  burlap,  and  if  very  dry  may  be  dipped  in  water  be- 
fore planting.  They  may  be  set  out  either  in  spring  or 
fall. 

Mr.  George  Gordon  in  his  "Book  of  Shrubs"  warns  us 
against  a  practice  to  which  we  are  all  too  prone — that  of 
buying  very  large  specimens  in  order  to  secure  an  im- 
mediate effect.  He  says:  "Unless  the  circumstances 
are  quite  exceptional  and  the  nursery  is  within  a  few 
miles  of  the  garden,  plants  of  medium  size  should  be 
preferred  to  those  which  have  attained  to  large  dimen- 
sions. The  latter  are  costly  because  of  the  large  amount 
expended  in  labour  upon  their  preparation  by  the 


208  MY  GARDEN 

nurseryman,  and  they  are  much  more  difficult  to  estab- 
lish. Sometimes  with  considerable  care  they  die  in  the 
summer  after  they  are  planted.  In  other  cases  they  are 
so  slow  in  becoming  established  that  they  make  little 
growth  for  two  or  three  years,  and  when  they  readily 
take  to  their  new  quarters,  it  is  not  unusual  for  them  to 
be  overtaken  by  plants  several  years  younger  at  the 
time  of  planting."  Mr.  Gordon  recommends  plants 
offered  at  "the  usual  catalogue  prices"  as  best  for 
general  purposes.  Perhaps  the  most  appreciated  shrubs 
are  those  which  come  in  the  early  year  before  the  snow 
feeling  has  quite  vanished  from  the  air,  and  those  are 
important,  too,  in  the  effect  of  the  garden,  for  with  only 
bulbs  and  creeping  things,  such  as  mainly  decorate  the 
spring,  the  shrubs  and  flowering  trees  are  needed  to 
carry  our  colour  higher  up. 

The  first  to  bloom  behind  our  garden  walls  in  a 
sheltered  south  border  is  the  Mezereon  (Daphne  mez- 
ereum),  which  before  a  leaf  is  thought  of,  often  in  late 
February,  has  wrapped  its  stiff  little  branches  in  a  fra- 
grant purple  scarf  or  somewhat  less  effectively  in  a 
white  one.  It  is  a  dwarf  and  succeeds  best  in  a  light, 
well-drained  soil  made  rich  with  old  cow  manure,  and  it 
will  grow  in  partial  shade.  The  first  mild  days  cause 
the  tiny  crowded  blossoms  to  open,  and  often  in  Novem- 
ber there  will  be  another  less  hearty  but  very  welcome 
flowering. 

Another  very  early  comer  is  the  Twin-flowered  Honey- 


SHRUBS  209 

suckle,  Lonicera  fragrantissima,  and  besides  decorating 
its  brown  branches  in  every  direction  with  pairs  of 
creamy  blossoms,  it  floods  the  cold  spring  garden  with  a 
most  delicious  fragrance.  It  is  an  erect-growing,  semi- 
evergreen  shrub,  reaching  a  height  of  about  six  feet,  and 
will  grow  almost  anywhere,  but  in  a  sunny  sheltered 
spot  it  blooms  earlier  than  in  exposed  places.  Others  of 
its  family  well  worth  growing  and  which  flower  much 
later  in  the  year  are  L.  Standishii  and  Maackii. 

Often,  as  early  as  the  middle  of  March,  the  Forsy- 
thias  hang  out  their  yellow  lamps,  casting  a  pale  radi- 
ance for  the  Crocuses  to  get  up  by.  There  are  several 
different  sorts,  all  bearing  the  same  yellow  bells,  but 
showing  differences  in  their  manner  of  growth.  For- 
syihia  suspensa  has  long  drooping  branches,  and  this  is 
the  best  sort  for  training  against  a  wall,  or  for  planting 
in  groups  in  half -wild  places  where  it  will  have  plenty  of 
room  to  trail  its  branches  without  interfering  with  its 
neighbours.  F.  intermedia  is  a  fine  form  of  robust  habit, 
more  erect  than  suspensa,  while  F.  viridissima  is  the 
strongest  growing  and  most  erect  of  all  but  with  less 
fine  flowers  than  the  other  two.  These  shrubs  grown  in 
masses  constitute  one  of  the  joys  of  spring.  In  the 
garden  I  have  a  group  of  three  in  a  wide  border,  one  with 
its  branches  trained  against  the  wall,  the  other  two  in 
front  of  it.  They  have  an  underplanting  of  pale  Crocus 
biflorus,  which  is  very  charming  in  the  soft  light  of  the 
yellow  Forsythias. 


210  MY  GARDEN 

Hurriedly  slipping  on  her  clothes,  also  by  this  soft 
effulgence,  is  that  baby  of  the  great  Spiraea  family,  S. 
Thunbergii,  a  fluffy,  appealing  mite,  seldom  growing 
more  than  a  yard  high  and  covering  itself  in  early  spring 
with  a  smother  of  tiny  white  flowers  and  reddish  leaves. 
This  is  a  pretty  shrub  to  grow  in  front  of  Forsythias, 
with  drifts  of  purple  and  white  and  yellow  Crocuses 
around  and  beneath  it. 

The  beauty  of  Magnolias  in  early  spring  is  well  known 
to  most  garden  lovers.  The  great  M.  Yulan  and  the 
purple-stained  M.  Soulangeana  are  spoken  of  in  the 
chapter  on  flowering  trees,  but  snowy  M .  stellata  has  a 
place  among  the  earliest  shrubs  of  the  year.  It  is  sel- 
dom seen  more  than  four  feet  high,  but  blooms  at  so 
early  an  age  and  presents  so  solid  a  mass  of  gleaming 
whiteness  that  it  frequently  looks  like  a  forgotten  snow- 
drift lying  upon  the  wet  brown  earth  or  the  freshening 
grass.  The  fragrant  flowers  are  composed  of  about  a 
dozen  strap-shaped  petals,  loosely  grouped,  and  the 
leaves  do  not  appear  until  after  the  blossoms  are  past. 
This  Magnolia,  like  most  of  its  kin,  is  best  suited  with  a 
rich,  porous  soil,  and  if  it  may  be  protected  from  the 
rowdy  gales  of  the  young  year  by  wall  or  taller  shrubs, 
it  is  grateful. 

Pyrus  or  Cydonia  Japonica  (Chenomaler) ,  which  blooms 
in  early  April,  is  one  of  the  most  brilliantly  effective  shrubs 
of  the  entire  year.  The  gay  scarlet  flowers  cling  along  the 
crooked,  thorny  bushes  most  artistically,  and  in  spite  of 


SHRUBS 

its  being  what  we  call  "common,"  should  be  found  in 
every  garden.  There  are  pink  and  blush  sorts  and  a 
variety  called  Maulei,  which  has  some  orange  in  its 
scarlet  colour.  Against  our  garden  wall  the  ordinary 
scarlet  sort  creates  a  fine  picture  with  bright-pink  early 
Tulips  trailing  down  the  border  from  its  prickly  skirts. 

Before  spring  has  got  very  far  along  her  flowery  path 
other  members  of  the  Spiraea  tribe  begin  to  deck  them- 
selves in  festal  array.  S.  prunifolia,  fl.  pi.,  with  long, 
wandlike  branches  lined  with  white  buttonlike  flowers, 
is  early  to  bloom,  and  S.  arguta  is  another  lovely  early- 
blooming  sort.  S.  Van  Houttei  is  a  well-known  and 
splendid  sort  which  blooms  in  early  May,  and  is  followed 
through  the  season  by  other  kinds,  all  worth  having 
in  a  large  collection — Reevesii — white,  May.  Bumalda — 
dwarf — pink,  July.  Anthony  Water er,  magenta,  all 
summer;  and  others. 

Daffodils  and  early  Tulips  are  charming  peeping  from 
beneath  the  snowy  draperies  of  the  early-flowering 
Spirseas,  and  groups  of  the  noble  Crown  Imperial  are 
very  handsome  in  the  neighbourhood  of  S.  prunifolia. 

Toward  the  end  of  April  Ribes  aureum,  the  Flowering 
Currant  of  old  gardens,  begins  to  shake  out  its  small 
yellow  blossoms,  the  perfume  of  which  seeks  us  out  at  a 
great  distance.  This  is  not  a  shrub  of  high  degree,  but  a 
sweet  old-fashioned  thing  that  one  likes  to  tuck  away  in 
all  sorts  of  places  for  the  sake  of  its  perfume,  particularly 
under  one's  windows.  It  does  well  anywhere,  even  in 


MY  GARDEN 

shade.  There  are  other  varieties,  sanguineum  and 
atrosanguineum  with  reddish  flowers,  but  I  have  had 
only  the  common  sort. 

The  Kerrias,  both  single  and  double,  are  at  their 
height  about  the  first  of  May.  I  rather  prefer  the  single 
sort,  but  both  are  fine  and  golden  in  their  bloom,  which 
thickly  clothes  the  slender  light-green  branches.  These 
plants  are  said  to  prefer  a  damp  soil,  but  I  have  not 
found  them  fastidious,  and  save  that  they  are  sometimes 
nipped  by  late  spring  frosts  are  most  easily  managed. 

Lovely  indeed,  just  now,  is  Prunus  triloba,  fl.  pl.9  a 
shrubby  member  of  the  plum  family,  which  wreathes  it- 
self from  top  to  bottom  with  gay  pink  rosettes  resem- 
bling but  larger  than  those  affected  by  the  Flowering 
Almond.  We  have  two  great  bushes  of  Prunus  triloba 
in  front  of  the  garden-house  porch  with  a  fine  clump  of 
gray-white  Florentine  Iris  and  some  cherry-coloured 
Tulips  Pride  of  Haarlem  as  its  neighbours. 

The  gay  little  Flowering  Almond,  in  both  its  pink  and 
its  white  manifestation,  is  in  full  regalia  at  this  season. 
Ours  are  growing  against  a  group  of  Purple  Leaved 
Plums,  in  a  border  where  Bleeding  Hearts  and  pink  and 
white  Cottage  Tulips  complete  a  delightful  picture. 

Soon  come  Lilacs,  "  in  snow-white  innocence  or  purple 
pride,"  and  how  glad  we  are  to  see  them!  Surely  it  is 
the  favourite  shrub.  Here  we  have  fine  old  bushes,  tall 
enough  to  shake  their  scented  plumes  into  the  second- 
story  windows.  And  all  about  the  countryside  are 


SHRUBS  213 

magnificent  specimens,  many  of  them  keeping  guard, 
with  the  striped  grass  and  orange  Day  Lilies,  over  the 
charred  or  crumbling  ruins  of  what  was  once  a  cherished 
home. 

Even  after  making  the  acquaintance  of  many  of  the 
splendid  new  varieties,  so  truly  fine  in  colour  and  form, 
my  foolish  heart  clings  to  the  old-fashioned  single  purple 
and  white,  for  no  flower  seems  to  me  to  so  truly  express 
the  fulness  of  the  spring.  But  I  am  planting  all  sorts 
and  feel  that  we  cannot  have  too  many.  Some  of  the  best 
of  the  new  sorts  are  Charles  X,  a  stirring  reddish  purple; 
Marie  Legraye  and  Madam  Casimir-Perier,  splendid 
single  and  double  whites;  Madam  Lemoine,  double 
cream;  Souv.  de  Louis  Spath,  pinkish  mauve;  Pres. 
Carnot,  double  lavender;  Pres.  Grevy,  bluish-lavender; 
Grand  Due  Constantin,  ashy-lilac,  double. 

It  is  well,  if  possible,  to  procure  these  new  Lilacs  on 
their  own  roots,  as  suckers  from  the  budded  sorts  cause 
much  trouble  and  if  not  carefully  removed  will  soon  kill 
out  our  rare  variety. 

Few  shrubs  are  lovelier  than  the  old  Persian  Lilac,  in 
both  its  lilac  and  white  varieties.  It  is  more  slender  in 
all  its  parts  than  the  other  Lilacs  and  bears  its  great  loose 
panicles  of  bloom  from  top  to  bottom. 

There  are  other  sorts  of  Lilacs  that  one  might  also 
grow.  The  Rouen  Lilac  is  lovely,  and  Syringa  Japonica, 
of  treelike  form,  leathery  leaves,  and  creamy  blossoms 
that  come  after  other  Lilacs  are  past,  is  said  to  be 


214  MY  GARDEN 

fine.  I  have  had  a  bush  of  the  Hungarian  Lilac  (S. 
Josikaea)  in  the  garden  for  several  years,  but  it  seems 
most  deliberate  and  has  not  yet  bloomed. 

Lilacs  love  a  rich  soil  and  a  spot  not  too  dry,  and  they 
seem  to  like  to  grow  close  to  a  house,  where  the  drip 
from  the  eaves  finds  its  way  to  their  thirsty  roots,  or 
perhaps  the  sympathy  and  companionship  of  human 
beings  answers  to  some  need  of  its  nature,  for  surely 
Lilacs  are  never  so  fine  as  when  growing  close  to  a  dwell- 
ing. To  prune  Lilacs  is  to  do  them  grievous  harm.  I 
have  known  them  sulk,  or  perhaps  mourn,  for  years 
after  a  smart  trimming,  not  giving  a  single  bloom.  The 
faded  flowers  are  best  cut  away,  but  the  branches  may  be 
left  to  themselves. 

Besides  the  beloved  Lilacs  May  has  great  wealth  in 
the  way  of  flowering  shrubs.  The  Deutzias  are  a  useful 
and  deserving  race,  which  will  thrive  lustily  if  given 
tolerable  conditions.  There  are  numerous  varieties,  but 
the  family  is  well  represented  by  D.  crenata  fl.  pi., 
Pride  of  Rochester,  double  white  flowers;  Crenata  rosea, 
double  pink;  Lemoinei,  a  sturdy  dwarf  shrub  of  up- 
standing habit,  producing  pure-white  flowers,  and  graci- 
lis,  a  small  fluffy-flowered  thing  of  great  beauty. 

Exochorda  grandiflora,  the  Pearl  Bush,  is  one  of  the 
prettiest  of  flowering  shrubs,  though  not  often  seen. 
Its  snowy,  inch-broad  blossoms  appear  in  great  profusion 
with  the  leaves,  and  a  well-grown  specimen  may  be  eight 
feet  high  and  as  many  through.  It  delights  in  rich  soil 


SHRUBS  215 

and  some  protection  from  the  wind,  and  to  be  seen  at  its 
best  should  be  given  plenty  of  room  for  development. 

Another  good  white-flowered  shrub  is  Rhodotypos 
Kerrioides,  which  has  much  the  appearance  of  a  single 
white  Kerria.  The  foliage  is  large  and  handsome  and 
the  gleaming  blossoms  are  followed  in  autumn  by  dark 
coloured  berries.  It  grows  about  six  feet  tall,  is  reason- 
able about  soil,  and  belongs  to  the  early  days  of  the 
month. 

The  Mock  Oranges  (Philadelphus)  are  only  a  bit  be- 
hind the  Lilacs  in  our  affections.  The  old  P.  coronarius 
is  perhaps  in  some  danger  of  being  superseded  by  the 
beautiful  new  hybrids,  which  have  been  placed  at  our 
disposal,  but  they  all  have  the  same  charm  of  creamy 
bloom,  delicious  fragrance,  and  good  foliage.  Save  for 
P.  microphyllus,  which  is  a  dwarf  of  the  most  engaging 
type,  the  Mock  Oranges  are  tall-growing  shrubs.  The 
best  of  the  new  varieties  are  Avalanche,  Boule  d'Argent, 
Fantaisie,  Mont  Blanc,  and  Gerbe  de  Neige.  There  is 
a  yellow-leaved  form  of  coronarius  which  is  a  much 
better  shrub  than  many  other  yellow-leaved  things,  and 
often  very  useful  in  lighting  up  a  shadowy  corner. 
These  shrubs  will  grow  in  shade,  if  necessary,  but  they 
dislike  being  crowded  and  will  bloom  well  only  when 
given  plenty  of  space.  They  bloom  upon  the  wood  of 
the  previous  season,  so  if  this  is  cut  away  the  result  is 
obvious. 

Weigelas  belong  to  May  and  are  very  hardy  and  use- 


216  MY  GARDEN 

ful  shrubs,  but  somehow  they  awaken  little  enthusiasm 
in  my  soul.  The  white-flowered  sorts,  Candida  and 
Dame  Blanche,  are  the  prettiest,  I  think;  but  the  pink- 
flowered  varieties  enjoy  much  favour.  Eve  Rathke 
blooms  quite  late  and  bears  very  handsome  claret- 
coloured  flowers;  Abel  Carriere  is  a  good  bright  rose; 
Esperance,  pale  salmon,  and  Fleur  de  Mai,  purplish- 
pink,  flower  earlier  than  the  rest;  and  there  are  also  La 
Perle,  a  pretty  blush-colour,  and  Saturn,  very  nearly 
carmine.  Little  pruning  is  required,  save  to  keep  the 
sturdy  bushes  free  from  old  and  useless  wood,  and  they 
succeed  well  in  almost  any  situation. 

A  shrub  familiar  to  most  garden-bred  folk  is  the  old 
Snowball  tree,  Viburnum  opulus  var.  sterilis.  Great 
bushes  of  it  were  in  the  garden  where  I  grew  up  and  we 
called  it "  Summer  snowball"  and  not  infrequently  usedit 
as  such.  It  will  grow  eight  feet  high  and  almost  as  thick 
through,  the  long  branches  bending  under  the  weight  of 
the  heavy  blooms.  The  bushes  grow  thickly  in  a  rich 
soil  and  require  an  annual  thinning  out  of  old  wood. 

With  the  opening  summer  comes  the  lovely  Rose 
Acacia  (Robinia  hispida)  drooping  its  long  branches, 
hung  with  rosy  pea-shaped  blossoms,  among  the  fresh 
young  leafage.  I  do  not  often  see  this  charming  shrub 
in  handsome  gardens,  but  I  know  of  many  humble  door 
yards  that  boast  its  high-bred  beauty,  but  where  it  ever 
has  an  alien  look,  seeming  to  belong  to  higher  walks  of 
life.  The  Rose  Acacia  is  of  rapid  growth  and  becomes 


SHRUBS  217 

an  ornament  while  more  deliberate  shrubs  are  making 
up  their  minds  to  grow.  On  account  of  its  drooping, 
spreading  habit  it  requires  room  to  adequately  display 
its  charms.  In  Mr.  E.  T.  Cook's  book,  "Trees  and 
Shrubs  for  English  Gardens,"  he  says,  "The  Rose 
Acacia  (Robinia  hispida),  trained  on  a  wall  or  house,  is 
as  beautiful  as  any  Wisteria,  and  the  quality  of  the  low- 
toned  rosy  bloom  of  a  much  rarer  colour.  It  is  quite 
hardy,  but  so  brittle  that  it  needs  close  and  careful  wall 
training  or  other  support." 

With  the  arrival  of  summer  the  great  array  of  flower- 
ing shrubs  becomes  noticeably  depleted,  but  we  do  not 
feel  their  loss  so  much  as  the  herbaceous  borders  are 
rapidly  filling  with  tall  and  splendid  tenants.  But 
there  are  still  a  few,  the  old-fashioned  Sweet  Shrub 
(Calycanthus  floridus),  with  its  hard  little  brown  blos- 
soms of  memory-stirring  fragrance,  so  valuable  to 
children  for  tying  tightly  in  the  corner  of  a  handkerchief 
for  the  refreshment  of  the  nose.  Some  people  lose  their 
fancy  for  the  fragrance  of  these  little  brown  blossoms 
when  they  acquire  a  taste  for  spotless  handkerchiefs  and 
perfumes  in  bottles,  but  I  do  not  lose  my  love  for  it. 
One  whiff  of  the  spicy,  exhilarating  odour,  and  open  flies 
the  gate  long  closed  upon  a  joyous  childhood,  and  with 
the  brown  talisman  tightly  held  within  my  palm  I  am 
free  to  pass  through  into  a  land  of  perpetual  revels, 
where  all  wonders  are  possible  and  where  faith  in  life 
and  its  great  promises  is  as  firm  as  the  walls  which  guard 


218  MY  GARDEN 

the  garden.  I  like  to  see  my  children  tying  the  Caly- 
canthus  blossoms  in  their  grimy  little  handkerchiefs,  for 
I  feel  sure  they  will  one  day  be  as  glad  as  I  for  a  pass- 
port which  will  admit  them  once  more  to  the  sheltered 
garden  of  their  childhood. 

Friend  Althaea  is  about  the  most  accommodating 
shrub  of  my  acquaintance.  Even  life  in  a  city  back- 
yard, where  it  is  peppered  with  dust  and  soot  and  where 
the  air  it  breathes  is  far  from  pure,  does  not  alter  its  de- 
termination to  grow  and  be  beautiful.  I  like  the  single 
Althaeas  best,  but  the  doubles  are  pretty  enough,  and 
generally  preferred.  The  colours  go  from  white  to  deep 
rose  and  maroon,  and  there  are  some  nice  purplish  and 
lilac  shades  which  are  particularly  effective  against  stone 
walls  or  gray  stucco  houses.  Hibiscus  syriacus  is  its 
proper  name,  and  it  is  also  called  Rose  of  Sharon.  The 
trees  are  strong  and  woody,  and  reach  a  height  of  ten  feet. 

Another  shrub  of  mid-summer  and  early  fall  is  the 
Hardy  Hydrangea,  which,  in  a  small  garden,  is  rather 
like  the  proverbial  bull  in  a  China  shop,  clumsy  and  un- 
manageable, owing  to  the  great  size  of  its  blossoms, 
which  are  out  of  scale  with  the  bush  and  with  most 
things  in  its  vicinity.  It  is,  in  the  language  of  the  cat- 
alogues, "a  grand  specimen  shrub,"  and  as  such  it  is  too 
frequently  used  to  the  desecration  of  what  would  other- 
wise be  a  pleasant  lawn.  Massed  against  tall  ever- 
greens or  sweeping  along  a  driveway  the  Hardy  Hy- 
drangea acquires  a  certain  dignity  and  power,  and  to  my 


SHRUBS  219 

mind  it  is  only  in  such  bold  planting  in  wide  places  that 
it  should  be  used.  Hydrangea  paniculata  and  its  var. 
grandiflora  are  the  best  and  hardiest  kinds.  They  will 
reach  a  height  of  about  six  feet,  and  in  the  autumn  the 
blossoms  turn  a  fine  reddish  colour,  and  may  be  brought 
indoors  for  winter  decoration.  The  shrub  should  be 
severely  pruned  in  early  spring,  one-half  its  growth  cut 
back  to  insure  a  symmetrical  form  and  countless  heavy- 
headed  blossoms. 

Most  of  the  Buddleias  are  too  tender  for  the  rigours  of 
our  winters,  those  best  for  our  gardens  are  all  varieties 
of  B.  Davidii  and  are  known  under  various  names  like 
Veitchiana,  more  robust  than  the  type,  and  B.  varia- 
bilis,  etc.  These  may  be  counted  upon  to  come  through 
a  severe  winter  unscathed  as  far  north  as  Boston. 
These  shrubs  grow  into  fair-sized  bushes  with  wand- 
like,  drooping  branches,  bearing  flowers  not  unlike  the 
lilac  in  form  and  of  a  charming  rosy-lilac  shade.  The 
blooms  form  on  the  new  wood,  and  the  bushes  require 
cutting  back  in  very  early  spring  (March)  to  within  two 
or  three  eyes  of  the  old  wood.  They  are  best  planted  in 
spring,  so  that  they  may  become  well  established  before 
the  strain  of  winter. 

When  autumn  arrives  we  cease  to  expect  flowers  from 
our  shrubs  and  are  grateful  to  those  with  colouring 
leaves  and  gay  fruit.  The  Sumachs  give  superb 
colour,  their  ruddy  plumes  in  fine  harmony  with  the 
scarlet  of  their  foliage.  The  Smoke  tree,  Rhus  Cotinus, 


220  MY  GARDEN 

is  one  of  the  finest  of  the  Sumachs.  It  grows  into  a  tall, 
full  shrub,  or  small  tree,  with  bright,  light-green  leaves. 
The  purple  flowers  in  summer  are  not  very  conspicuous, 
but  later  become  what  the  botanists  call  "exceedingly 
plumose,"  giving  the  tree  the  appearance  of  a  huge  puff 
of  brown  smoke.  R.  typhina  laciniata,  the  Cut-leaved, 
Staghorn  Sumach,  is  a  beautiful  sort,  with  delicate 
foliage,  which  turns  magnificently  in  the  fall  and  bears, 
besides,  great  clusters  of  dark  crimson  fruit. 

Barberries  I  have  not  before  mentioned,  for  while  they 
flower  early  the  pendent  fruit  that  is  the  chief  of  their 
charms  does  not  come  until  the  autumn.  The  common 
Barberry  B.  vulgaris,  so  intimate  a  feature  of  the  New 
England  landscape,  but  not  native  to  it,  having  been 
introduced  from  Europe  many  years  ago,  is  a  good  sort, 
with  small  yellow  flowers  in  spring  and  dangling,  bril- 
liantly scarlet  berries  in  the  autumn.  The  purple- 
leaved  Barberry,  B.  vulgaris  var.  purpurea,  is  a  tall-grow- 
ing shrub  of  splendid  colour.  Best  known  of  the  family 
is,  perhaps,  B.  Thunbergii,  the  small,  thorny  shrub  so 
much  used  for  low  hedges.  Its  foliage  colours  richly, 
and  in  winter  the  scarlet  fruit  dances  gayly  in  the  wind 
above  the  snow-shrouded  garden. 

Many  of  the  Elders,  Sambucus,  are  fine  in  the  late 
months  of  the  year,  turning  a  soft  yellow  and  bearing 
ornamental  fruits.  The  common  Elder,  S.  canadensis,  is 
a  good  shrub  and  bears  dark  reddish-purple  berries.  S. 
nigra  var.  aurea  has  yellow  leaves  and  flat  clusters  of 


SHRUBS 

bluish-white  berries.  S.  maxima  var.  pubescens  bears 
large  flower  clusters  in  the  late  summer,  which  are  fol- 
lowed by  red  berries. 

Viburnums  also  are  gay  fruited.  F.  Opulus  has  red 
berries;  lantana  has  red  berries  that  finally  turn  dark; 
dentatum  has  rich  blue-black  fruit,  and  the  Maple- 
leaved  Viburnum,  which  grows  wild  in  our  mountains, 
also  has  clusters  of  dark-coloured  berries. 

The  old-fashioned  Snowberry  peeps  through  most  of 
the  tumbledown  fences  in  our  neighbourhood,  and  we 
have  a  fine  group  at  our  own  front  fence.  The  shrub 
grows  about  five  feet  high  and  has  small  leaves,  tiny  pink 
flowers,  beloved  of  bees,  which  are  followed  by  large, 
gleaming  white  berries.  The  appalling  name  of  this 
simple  old  friend  is  Symphoricarpus  racemosus.  It 
spreads  quickly,  and  is  a  good  shrub  of  medium  height. 

Besides  these  gay-leaved,  bright-fruited  shrubs  there 
are  many  others,  too  numerous  for  inclusion  in  a  short 
chapter,  but  they  may  be  found  among  the  Dogwoods. 
Euonymuses,  Hawthorns,  Crabs,  Plums,  Andromedas, 
Roses,  Alders,  and  others. 

PRUNING.  One  needs  to  be  wary  of  the  knife  where 
shrubs  are  concerned.  Constantly  I  see  them  lopped 
and  mangled  into  the  most  pitiful  semblance  of  their 
former  graceful  state,  the  ignorant  butcher  seemingly 
unaware  or  unmindful  of  the  fact  that  he  has  cut  off  the 
greater  part  of  the  spring's  store  of  blossoms.  Some 
gardeners  seem  to  have  a  perfect  mania  for  pruning — 


MY  GARDEN 

really  it  is  not  safe  to  leave  the  knife  within  their  reach, 
for  once  launched  upon  a  pruning  orgy  they  are  seem- 
ingly insane  and  cut  and  slash  with  horrid  joy — just  one 
more  bud-laden  twig,  just  one  more  branch  of  promise — 
until  where  is  the  gracious,  long-limbed  shrub  of  a 
moment  ago?  Quite  gone,  and  in  its  place  a  stubby, 
shame-faced,  denuded  thing,  already  suffering  pangs  of 
mortification  over  the  barrenness  she  knows  must  be 
hers  in  the  coming  season  of  bloom  and  fruitfulness. 

It  is  better  not  to  prune  at  all  until  one  knows  one's 
shrubs  pretty  thoroughly:  when  they  bloom,  and  if  they 
are  vigorous  or  delicate. 

Mr.  E.  T.  Cook  says :  "  Many  shrubs  which  have  been 
in  one  place  for  some  years,  and  have  become  stunted  or 
poorly  flowered,  are  often  given  a  new  lease  of  life  by  a 
hard  pruning  in  winter,  cutting  away  all  the  old  wood 
entirely  and  shortening  the  remainder.  With  a  good 
feeding  at  the  same  time,  they  will  throw  up  strong 
young  shoots,  full  of  vigour,  which  will  bear  fine  and  well- 
coloured  flowers."  Mr.  Cook  also  says  that  when  a  cut 
is  made  it  should  be  accomplished  with  a  sharp  instru- 
ment, clean  and  slanting  toward  a  bud. 

Most  flowering  shrubs  need  little  or  no  pruning,  save 
the  removal  of  old  and  useless  wood,  but  if  pruning  is 
considered  desirable  it  is  essential  to  know  whether  the 
flowers  are  borne  upon  the  old  or  upon  the  new  wood,  so 
that  we  shall  not  cause  ourselves,  as  well  as  the  poor 
shrub,  the  sorrow  of  a  flowerless  season. 


CHAPTER  FOURTEEN 

FLOWERING   TREES   IN   THE   BORDERS 

"No  Man  so  callous  but  he  heaves  a  sigh 
When  o  'er  his  head  the  withered  cherry  blossoms 
Come  fluttering  down." 

— Korumushi. 

IT  SEEMS  not  to  be  the  pleasant  custom  nowadays 
in  our  country  to  plant  trees  in  the  flower  borders. 
In  gardens  of  the  old  world  one  comes  frequently 
upon  a  spreading  tree  rising  from  a  tangle  of  gay  flowers 
in  even  quite  narrow  borders,  casting  a  cool  shadow 
across  the  sunny  path.     Sometimes  it  is  a  sombre  black- 
shadowed  Yew,  often  a  gnarled  and  twisted  apple  or 
pear,  or  some  rare  exotic;  but,  whatever  it  is,  the  garden 
assumes  an  added  grace,  a  more  interesting  aspect  from 
its  presence. 

Certainly  much  of  the  charm  of  the  trim  Box-bor- 
dered gardens  of  our  grandmothers  may  be  attributed  to 
the  fruit  trees  which  marched  up  and  down  the  straight 
paths  creating  sweet  shadowy  interludes  in  the  sunny 
expanse,  sifting  their  fragrant  petals  like  snow  among 
the  Daffodils  and  spry  Ladies'  Delights,  and  later  hang- 
ing out  their  scarlet  or  yellow  fruit  in  rich  harmony  with 
the  Tiger  Lilies,  Marigolds,  and  "gilded  Sunflowers." 

223 


224  MY  GARDEN 

These  old  gardens  haunt  one's  memory  as  having  pos- 
sessed "atmosphere"  and  a  wealth  of  interest  not  al- 
ways present  in  modern  gardens,  augmented,  as  they 
are,  with  rarer  flowers  and  all  the  modern  inventions  of 
the  gardener's  art. 

Many  a  garden  would  be  redeemed  from  the  common- 
place by  the  presence  of  a  few  graceful  trees.  They 
would  relieve  the  tiresome  flatness  of  its  surface  and  lend 
the  agreeable  variety  of  light  and  shade  which  gives 
depth  and  meaning  to  its  brilliance  and  subtlety  to  its 
beauty,  without  which  no  composition  is  wholly  satis- 
fying. A  garden  should  hold  out  a  perpetual  invitation, 
but  this  the  merely  sunny  garden  never  does  during  the 
heat  of  summer  days,  whereas,  that  with  comfortable 
seats  in  shady  corners  ever  tempts  us  to  linger.  It  has 
the  pleasant  livable  quality  which  is  as  desirable  in  a 
garden  as  in  a  room. 

I  do  not  speak  for  great  Elms,  Maples,  and  Oaks  within 
the  garden  enclosure.  They,  indeed,  would  rob  the  soil, 
and  cast  a  far  too  heavy  shade.  But  there  are  beautiful 
flowering  trees,  picturesque  in  outline  and  so  lightly 
made  as  to  cast  only  such  shadow  as  many  a  plant  is 
grateful  to  receive.  They  rob  the  border  to  no  greater 
extent  than  we  can  easily  repair  by  the  addition  of  a 
little  extra  fertilizer. 

In  spring  these  flowering  trees  are  particularly  valu- 
able in  the  garden,  because  the  great  array  of  flowering 
bulbs  and  other  early  spring  flowers  are  so  low  growing 


FLOWERING  TREES  225 

that  our  colour  is,  of  necessity,  put  on  too  flat,  and  so  we 
are  grateful  to  the  trees  which  carry  the  colour  higher 
up  and  fling  their  bloom-wrapped  branches,  like  silken 
scarves,  high  against  the  garden  wall.  Lured  by  the 
trees  birds  will  make  their  homes  within  our  garden  en- 
closure, giving  their  songs  and  the  vivid  interest  of  their 
lives  for  our  edification.  And,  more  than  this,  they 
will  be  our  able  coadjutors  in  ridding  the  garden  of  the 
vicious  cutworm  and  a  grievous  horde  of  evildoers. 

There  are  many  sorts  of  flowering  trees  but  none  so 
lovely  as  the  flowering  fruit  trees,  and  of  these,  perhaps 
by  virtue  of  its  age  and  the  great  respect  with  which  it 
has  been  regarded  from  earliest  times,  the  Apple  should 
claim  our  first  consideration  for,  says  Harriet  Keeler, 
"When  man  emerges  into  history,  he  has  an  apple  in  his 
hand  and  the  dog  by  his  side." 

Crabapples  are  best  suited  for  use  in  the  limited  space 
of  the  flower  garden,  and  there  are  numerous  fine  vari- 
eties. None  is  more  beautiful  than  Pyrus  floribunda, 
the  grace  and  brilliance  of  which  is  not  easily  sur- 
passed— scarlet  in  bud,  deep  pink  in  blossom,  each 
slightly  drooping  branch  literally  wrapped  in  enchanting 
colour.  Here,  in  the  angle  of  the  high  stone  wall,  it  is 
usually  in  full  regalia  by  April  24th,  and  along  the 
borders  its  colour  is  deliciously  repeated  by  pink  and 
cherry- coloured  early  Tulips  growing  in  little  groups 
through  mats  of  white  Arais.  In  time  it  reaches  a 
height  of  twelve  feet,  but  blossoms  when  quite  small.  I 


MY  GARDEN 

have  a  variety  called  Scheideckeri  with  larger  flow- 
ers of  paler  colour  but  otherwise  similar  to  the 
foregoing.  Very  charming  as  a  neighbour  for  P.  flori- 
bunda  is  the  Siberian  Crab,  P.  baccata,  bearing  pure- 
white  flowers.  P.  coronaria,  the  American  Sweet 
Scented  Crab,  grows  rapidly  into  a  picturesque  tree  al- 
most thirty  feet  high  and  clothes  itself  with  large  single 
pale  pink  blossoms  with  the  fragrance  of  violets.  Ex- 
quisite, also,  and  attaining  about  the  same  height,  is  P. 
spectabilis  with  great  clusters  of  blush-pink,  semi-double 
blossoms.  Perhaps  the  treasure  of  the  family  is 
Bechtel's  Double  Flowered  American  Crab,*  the  latest  to 
bloom  in  this  garden.  It  makes  a  nice,  symmetrical 
little  tree,  and  after  the  leaves  have  accomplished  their 
pale  young  growth  come  myriads  of  pink  double  blos- 
soms like  little  Daily  Roses  that  have  the  Sweet  Violet 
fragrance.  Near  this  tree  we  enjoy  a  group  of  gray- 
white  Florentine  Iris  and  a  gay  colony  of  bright  cherry- 
coloured  Tulip  Pride  of  Haarlem. 

The  Crabs  root  deeply  and  enjoy  a  warm,  dry  soil, 
well  prepared  to  a  considerable  depth,  so  that  the  garden 
borders  suit  them  well.  They  are  very  hardy,  not 
nearly  so  deliberate  in  their  growth  as  their  fellows  of  the 
orchard,  and  forming  very  nice-sized  trees  in  a  few  years. 

Blooming  in  April  and  May,  many  bulbs  are  at  hand 
to  flower  with  great  effect  beneath  their  spreading 
branches:  the  paler- coloured  Daffodils,  Poet's  Narcis- 

*Pyrus  ioensis. 


FLOWERING  TREES 

sus,  and  a  host  of  pink,  white,  and  buff-coloured  Tulips. 
Beside  these  the  earliest  of  the  May  Irises  and  all  the 
pretty  creeping  plants  of  the  season  enable  us  to  ac- 
complish many  charming  pictures,  and  in  the  autumn 
the  small  highly  coloured  fruits,  profusely  borne,  again 
bring  these  trees  into  important  requisition  as  colour 
factors. 

The  word  Prunus  covers  a  multitude  of  delights: 
Peaches,  Cherries,  and  Plums  of  a  diversity  and  loveli- 
ness quite  undreamed  save  by  those  who  have  set  out  to 
know  them  in  all  their  great  variety.  If  one  needs  to 
make  a  choice  perhaps  the  Cherries  would  come  first,  for 
there  is  nothing  quite  like  the  pure  perfection  of  Cherry 
blossoms — not  the  chill  whiteness  of  Pear  blossoms  with 
their  strange  cloying  perfume,  but  a  quality  of  purity  all 
their  own,  glistening,  youthful,  with  no  hint  of  cold 
aloofness.  They  fill  the  mind  and  satisfy  the  soul,  and, 
spreading  their  white  shade  above  the  troops  of  golden 
Daffodils,  fill  the  garden  with  an  enchanting  radiance. 
All  the  Cherries  are  bewitching;  even  the  Japanese 
Weeping  Cherry,  Cerasus  pendula,  is  so  exquisite  in  its 
grief  that  one  finds  it  possible  for  once  to  tolerate  a  tear- 
ful tree.  Cerasus  avium  var.  multiplex,  enveloped  in 
snow-white  bloom,  is  thought  by  many  to  be  the  queen 
of  flowering  trees,  but  there  are  so  many  treasures  how 
can  one  decide?  This  tree  is  perhaps  too  vigorous  for 
small  gardens,  for  it  reaches  a  height  of  forty  feet;  but  if 
there  is  room  for  it  there  is  nothing  lovelier.  It  blooms 


228  MY  GARDEN 

at  the  same  time  as  the  orchard  Cherries,  of  which  it  is  a 
development,  with  great  loose  clusters  of  pure-white 
double  flowers.  Cerasus  Pseudo-cerasus,  known  also  as 
C.  Watereri  and  C.  Sieboldii,  is  an  exquisite  form  of  the 
Japanese  Rose  Flowered  Cherry,  and  this,  with  the  other 
double  rose-flowered  form,  James  H.  Veitch  and  the 
lovely  pure-white,  double-flowered  Chinese  Cherry,  C. 
serrulata,  are  the  best  for  planting  in  the  flower  borders. 
These  are  the  trees  the  blossoming  of  which  is  the  occa- 
sion in  Japan  for  holidays  and  festivals  in  which  all 
classes  take  part.  It  seems  a  sane  and  lovely  custom 
and  one  that  western  nations  might  do  well  to  follow, 
but,  imagine,  if  you  can,  the  American  man  of  business 
and  affairs  making  a  holiday  and  going  afield,  lunch- 
basket  in  hand,  because  the  land  is  full  of  apple  blos- 
soms, "their  breath  upon  the  breeze."  Noses  are  held 
too  closely  to  the  grindstone  for  the  sweet  perfume  to 
reach  them,  and  too  many  there  are  who  let  pass  un- 
noticed these  rare  "blue  days,"  musical  with  the 
ecstatic  songs  of  mating  birds  and  cloudy  with  the  mist 
of  blossoming  trees. 

Cherries  enjoy  the  deep,  well-drained  loam  of  the 
garden  borders,  and  they  love  a  sunny  situation.  Lime 
in  some  form  is  important  to  their  well-being,  and  they 
respond  gratefully  if  given  a  dose  at  least  once  a  year. 

Here,  in  the  frost-bound  north,  the  impetuosity  with 
which  the  Peach  trees  burst  into  bloom,  in  defiance  of 
threatening  winds  and  cold,  endears  them  to  us.  In- 


FLOWERING  TREES 

deed,  so  reckless  are  they  in  responding  to  the  "double- 
faced"  smiles  of  cunning  April,  who  comes  acourting, 
that  their  beauty  is  sometimes  spoiled,  and  one  must 
wait  a  whole  year  to  enjoy  the  breathless  moment  when 
the  Peach  trees  are  a  pink  enchantment  above  a  shadow 
of  purple  Crocuses. 

What  the  Apple  tree  is  to  New  England  the  Peach  is 
to  the  Middle  and  Southern  States.  Every  negro  hut 
boasts  its  glorifying  Peach  tree,  every  trim  homestead 
its  Peach  orchard,  and  I  remember,  when  a  little  girl  in 
Baltimore,  that  so  many  of  the  backyards  had  Peach 
trees  that  it  was  quite  a  delight  to  walk  along  the  side 
streets  in  early  spring  and  peep  through  the  iron  railings 
or  over  the  queer  board  fences  at  the  great  bouquets 
within.  On  the  mountains  of  Maryland  are  the  most 
beautiful  Peach  orchards  imaginable,  and  one  does  not 
easily  forget  the  experience  of  having  seen  one  lying  in 
flushed  ecstasy  within  the  curving  embrace  of  a  rugged 
mountain  road. 

The  double-flowered  Peaches  are  even  lovelier  than 
those  of  the  orchards,  the  pink  or  white  rosette-like 
blossoms  clinging  densely  along  the  naked  branches. 
We  have  a  variety  known  as  the  Blood-leaved  Peach 
with  tiny  blossoms  and  reddish-purple  foliage,  but  it  is 
not  so  good  a  tree  as  Prunus  Pissardii,  the  purple-leaved 
Plum,  and  shares,  with  all  the  Peaches,  the  fault  of 
losing  its  leaves  too  early  in  the  fall.  Peach  trees,  too, 
are  not  so  good  in  form  as  the  Cherries,  Plums,  and 


230  MY  GARDEN 

Crabs,  but  one  willingly  gives  them  space  for  the  delight 
of  their  short  spring  rapture. 

Prunus  triloba,  which  is  not,  correctly  speaking,  a 
tree,  and  P.  Pissardii,  the  purple-leaved  Plum,  are  the 
only  representatives  of  the  Plum  family  of  my  acquaint- 
ance. The  first,  P.  triloba,  the  Rosette  Plum,  is 
shrublike  in  growth,  and  wreathes  its  leafless  branches 
in  double  bright  pink  blossoms  somewhat  resembling 
but  much  larger  than  those  of  the  Flowering  Almond. 
It  is  said  to  bloom  best  when  well  pruned  just  after 
flowering,  but  I  tried  this  with  most  disappointing  re- 
sults; whereas,  when  left  alone,  it  was  a  veritable 
bouquet. 

Prunus  Pissardii,  with  its  wine-coloured  foliage,  is  a 
splendid  tree.  Its  small  single  blossoms  are  so  delicate 
as  to  seem  like  mist  against  the  garden  wall,  and  I  can- 
not but  feel  that  the  double-flowered  form,  Moserifl.  pi., 
must  lose  much  of  grace  and  endearing  frailty  in  the 
doubling  of  its  petals.  The  rich  foliage  of  the  tree 
makes  it  prominent  in  the  garden  all  during  the  season, 
and  nothing  is  pleasanter  in  its  neighbourhood  than 
flowers  in  the  various  pink  shades.  We  begin  with 
Flowering  Almonds  pressed  close  against  it  and  a  trail  of 
pink  Tulips  followed  by  Bleeding  Hearts,  Pseonies, 
Hybrid  Pyrethrums,  tall  Hollyhocks,  and  Phloxes.  P. 
Pissardii  reaches  a  height  of  about  fifteen  feet.  The 
double-flowering  Sloe,  Prunus  spinosa,  flore  pleno,  is 
described  as  very  lovely,  but  as  yet  we  have  it  not. 


FLOWERING  TREES  231 

The  flowering  fruit  trees  do  not  at  all  exhaust  the 
treasures  to  be  had,  and  one  of  the  loveliest  of  these 
others  and  earliest  to  bloom  of  any  of  our  flowering 
trees  is  the  Shadbush,  a  lovely  will-o'-the-wisp  of  a  tree 
appearing  like  puffs  of  mist  among  the  wet  green  trunks 
of  woodland  trees — as  ethereal  and  fleeting.  This 
lovely  wild  thing  with  its  harsh-sounding  name,  Amelan- 
chier  canadensis,  enjoys  the  shelter  of  the  garden  walls 
where  rough  winds  may  not  tear  its  fragile  flowers  and 
where  its  roots  may  go  deep  into  the  rich  soil  of  the 
borders.  It  is  a  graceful,  lightly  made  tree  though 
sometimes  reaching  a  height  of  thirty  feet,  but  it  blooms 
when  quite  small,  and  the  peculiar  wraithlike  quality  of 
its  flowering  makes  it  especially  welcome  in  the  spring 
garden. 

Both  the  native  Dogwood  and  Judas  trees,  which 
blooming  in  unison  in  Maryland  and  Virginia  create  of 
the  April  woods  a  fairy  world,  are  both  entirely  worthy 
a  place  within  the  garden.  The  spreading  Dogwood  is 
too  well  known  to  need  description.  The  white  and 
the  rarer  pink  variety  are  to  be  found  in  most  good 
gardens,  and  it  is  not  only  in  spring  that  it  is  valuable, 
but  in  its  rich  autumn  dress  as  well. 

The  tiny  lavender-pink  blossoms  of  the  Judas  tree  or 
Redbud,  Cercis  canadensis,  appear  before  the  leaves  and 
are  set  so  closely  upon  the  naked  branches  that  little 
bunches  and  knots  of  them  are  crowded  off  upon  the 
trunk  of  the  tree,  looking  like  extra  rosettes  pinned  on 


MY  GARDEN 

by  anxious  Mother  Nature  as  an  afterthought.  The 
tree  has  an  interesting  irregularity  of  contour,  and  is 
quite  Japanese  in  character  against  its  background  of 
gray  stone.  The  leaves  are  large  and  heartshaped,  and 
the  tree  is  a  fairly  rapid  grower,  blooming  when  quite 
young.  There  is  a  variety  called  Siliquastrum  which 
attains  a  height  of  about  ten  feet,  and  is  more  bushy  in 
growth.  The  flowers  are  somewhat  larger  than  those  of 
canadensis  and  it  is  perhaps  a  better  tree  altogether. 
Pinky-mauve  Darwin  Tulips  nicely  repeat  the  colour  of 
the  Judas  tree,  along  its  border,  relieved  by  bushes  of 
Hardy  Candytuft.  John  Gerarde  described  the  colour 
of  the  Judas  flowers  as  a  "purple  colour  mixed  with 
red,"  and  further  says  of  the  tree  that  "it  is  thought  to 
be  that  on  which  Judas  did  hang  himself  and  not  upon 
the  Elder  Tree  as  it  is  vulgarly  said."  This  explains  its 
strange  name. 

The  two  splendid  Magnolias,  M.  conspicua  and  M. 
Soulangeana,  flower  by  mid- April.  The  first,  which  is 
known  as  the  Yulan  Magnolia,  has  been  cultivated  in 
China  for  a  thousand  years,  and  is  considered  the  sym- 
bol of  candour  and  beauty.  Its  great  thick-skinned 
white  flowers  exhale  a  rare  fragrance,  and  the  tree  in 
time  reaches  a  great  height.  Soulangeana  bears  pale 
flowers  stained  with  deeper  colour,  and  is  the  more  often 
seen.  Once  established  Magnolias  are  as  hardy  as  iron, 
but  they  are  somewhat  difficult  to  transplant.  March 
is  said  to  be  the  best  time  to  set  them  out,  and  it  is  well 


FLOWERING  TREES  233 

to  shade  the  young  trees  for  several  weeks  and  keep  the 
ground  about  them  thoroughly  moist.  All  Magnolias 
prefer  a  damp  soil,  but  will  do  well  wherever  the  soil  is 
deep  and  rich. 

No  garden  would  be  complete  without  a  few  Haw- 
thorns. Here  we  have  only  two — the  white  English 
Hawthorn  or  May,  and  Paul's  Double  Scarlet  Thorn — 
but  there  are  many  others.  The  white  thorn,  Crataegus 
Oxyacantha,  while  it  is  the  commonest,  must  surely  be  the 
loveliest,  and  I  know  of  few  things  which  fill  the  air  with 
so  rare  a  perfume.  It  may  be  had  in  various  pink  and 
red  forms  and  double,  but  the  single  white  is,  I  think, 
the  most  characteristic  and  beautiful.  The  effect  of 
the  tree  in  flower  is  not  pure  white,  but  almost  silvery. 
Burns  sings  of  the  Hawthorn,  "wi5  its  lock  o'  siller 
grey,"  and  Shelley  of  the  "moonlight  coloured  May/* 

I  have  a  fine  Hawthorn  tree  outside  my  bedroom 
window,  and  not  only  enjoy  the  sweet  perfume  the  first 
thing  upon  waking,  but  hear  the  bees  testifying  in  noisy 
fashion  to  the  excellence  of  the  fare  provided  for  them. 
Paul's  Scarlet  Thorn  is  very  brilliant  when  in  full  flower, 
but  lacks  the  sweetness  of  the  other.  Both,  in  time, 
grow  into  good-sized  trees  but  are  rather  leisurely  about 
it. 

A  favourite  among  my  garden  trees  is  the  Golden 
Chain,  Laburnum  vulgare — the  variety  Watererii  is 
better — and  in  late  May  hangs  chains  of  yellow  pea- 
shaped  blossoms  nearly  two  feet  in  length  from  every 


234  MY  GARDEN 

branch.  It  is  easily  raised  from  seed,  and  grows 
quickly,  finally  reaching  a  height  of  about  twenty  feet. 
It  will  grow  in  any  well-drained  soil  and  impartially  in 
sun  or  shade,  but,  as  far  north  as  Massachusetts,  is  not 
reliably  hardy  save  in  sheltered  places.  All  parts  of  the 
tree  are  said  to  be  poisonous,  especially  the  beans  that 
follow  the  flowers. 

If  room  can  be  found  it  is  pleasant  to  give  a  corner  to 
our  native  Burning  Bush,  or  Wahoo,  Euonymus  atropur- 
pureus,  for  the  sake  of  its  brilliant  seed  vessels  which 
dangle  like  scarlet  ear-drops  from  every  twig  and 
branch,  hanging  long  after  the  crimson  leaves  have 
fallen  and  carrying  a  bit  of  cheer  through  the  desolate 
gateway  of  winter.  The  leaves,  bark,  and  fruit  of  this 
tree  are  also  said  to  be  poisonous. 

There  is  an  old  saying  which  is  good  advice:  "Be 
aye  sticking  in  a  tree,  it'll  be  growing  when  you're 
sleeping."  Do  not  wait  until  the  garden  is  finished,  but 
put  the  trees  in  first,  that  they  may  be  developing  and 
preparing  to  give  to  the  garden  the  appearance  that  we 
so  earnestly  desire — of  having  long  existed. 


CHAPTER  FIFTEEN 

GREEN   DRAPERIES 

"In  a  garden  Nature  is  not  to  be  her  simple  self,  but  is  to  be  sub- 
ject to  man's  conditions,  his  choice,  his  rejection." 

— John  Sedding. 

VNES  are  the  draperies  of  the  garden,  and  as 
much  thought  should  be  given  to  their  choice 
and  bestowal  as  to  the  hangings  of  a  room. 
The  wrong  vine  may  mar  an  otherwise  pleasant  scene, 
and  the  right  one  will  frequently  quite  redeem  the  com- 
monplace. Architectural  indiscretions  and  enormities 
may  be  buried  and  forgotten  beneath  a  heavy  covering 
of  vines,  and  many  a  crude  and  unsightly  object  brought 
into  harmony  with  its  surroundings  through  the  kindly 
tact  of  some  gracious  climbing  plant.  No  need  to 
emphasize  the  charm  of  vineclad  arbours  and  porches, 
of  green-draped  walls  and  gateways,  which  do  so  much 
toward  giving  to  our  gardens  the  appearance  of  per- 
manence and  livableness  so  much  desired.  But  per- 
haps it  is  a  little  needful  to  speak  of  the  fact  that  the 
chief  factor  in  this  charm  is  luxuriance,  which  may  not 
be  had  without  generous  preparation  of  the  spot  the 
vine  is  to  occupy. 

Nearly  all  climbing  plants  require  a  rich  soil  to  sup- 

235 


236  MY  GARDEN 

port  the  great  top  growth,  and  a  deep  and  wide  hole, 
well  manured,  should  be  prepared  for  their  reception. 
Yearly  enrichment  should  be  given,  and  frequent  culti- 
vation of  the  soil  around  the  vine  will  insure  a  freer 
growth.  It  is  the  part  of  wisdom  to  start  the  training 
of  young  climbing  plants  at  a  very  tender  age,  for  once 
let  them  have  their  own  way  for  a  season,  and  much 
cruel  mutilation  is  necessary  to  bring  them  back  to  the 
paths  of  decorum.  In  many  a  situation,  however,  the 
vine  may  be  allowed  its  own  sweet  will,  and  sweet  indeed 
it  is,  when  one  observes  the  delightful  manner  in  which 
Nature  hangs  her  festoons  of  Virginia  creeper,  Wood- 
bine, Bittersweet,  and  Clematis  over  stumps  and  fences, 
dead  trees,  and  rocky  hillsides;  but  when  some  special 
object  is  to  be  covered,  no  time  should  be  lost  in  pointing 
out  to  the  young  vine  the  path  it  is  to  follow  and  seeing 
that  it  obeys.  The  matter  of  pruning  is  of  importance, 
and  is  much  better  left  entirely  undone  unless  knowl- 
edge and  experience  guide  the  shears.  Most  vines  may 
be  safely  left  unpruned  if  doing  well,  but  if  in  a  weak 
condition  may  be  cut  hard  back  to  induce  a  sturdier 
growth. 

Maeterlinck  says:  "Though  there  be  plants  and 
flowers  that  are  awkward  and  ungainly,  there  is  none 
that  is  wholly  without  wisdom  and  ingenuity,"  and  it 
seems  to  me  that  climbing  plants  are  gifted  with  a 
special  intelligence.  It  is  well  known  that  all  the  twin- 
ing vines  twine  in  a  given  direction — that  is,  from  left  to 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  237 

right,  or  the  opposite,  and  that  it  is  not  possible  to  per- 
suade them  to  change  their  plans.  It  is  remarkable, 
too,  to  see  their  different  ways  of  getting  up  in  the 
world,  some  by  means  of  aerial  rootlets,  as  the  Ivy  and 
Ampelopsis;  some  by  little  seeking  tendrils  that  strongly 
grasp  any  available  object,  as  the  Clematis  and  Grape; 
some  which  twine  themselves  around  a  given  support, 
as  Honeysuckle  and  Wistaria,  and  others  which  throw 
themselves  recklessly  upon  anything  within  their  reach 
and  demand  a  lift.  To  this  class  belong  the  Climbing 
Roses. 

There  are  of  course  annual  and  perennial  vines  at 
our  disposal,  and  while  in  the  established  garden  there  is 
little  reason  to  employ  the  former,  in  new  gardens  they 
are  indispensable  to  provide  a  little  drapery  while  the 
permanent  climbers  are  getting  themselves  settled  and 
making  a  start. 

Among  annuals  I  must  confess  to  a  weakness  for 
Morning  Glories.  Thoreau  admitted  a  similar  weak- 
ness when  he  wrote,  "It  always  refreshes  me  to  see  it 
.  .  .  I  associate  it  with  the  holiest  morning  hours." 
But  Morning  Glories  have  their  faults,  and  a  bad  one 
is  that  they  are  apt  to  impose  upon  one's  hospitality. 
They  appear  to  think  that  an  invitation  to  spend  a  sum- 
mer in  your  garden  may  be  stretched  to  cover  any 
number  of  summers,  and  back  they  come  year  after 
year  with  never  so  much  as  a  "by  your  leave,"  or 
"which  plant  may  I  use  as  a  lift?" 


238  MY  GARDEN 

I  remember  once  in  my  early  gardening  experience 
being  away  for  two  months  during  the  summer  and 
finding,  upon  my  return,  the  garden  positively  gasping 
for  breath  in  the  clutches  of  these  unbidden  guests. 
The  moment  my  back  was  turned  they  had  risen  up  all 
over  the  garden  and  climbed  like  acrobats  up  anything 
so  unfortunate  as  to  possess  an  upright  stalk.  It  was 
crass  outlawry,  of  course,  and  had  to  be  ruthlessly  dealt 
with,  but  in  my  heart  I  felt  that  beneath  their  dainty 
burden  the  smug  Dahlias  had  acquired  a  grace  quite 
foreign  to  them,  and  that  the  poor  half -strangled  Holly- 
hocks had  never  looked  so  lovely  as  when  providing  a 
trellis  for  these  wantons,  with  their  "fairy  loops  and 
rings." 

The  Japanese  have  wrought  magic  upon  the  simple 
Morning  Glory,  and  have  created  a  race  called  Japanese 
Imperial,  which  will  climb  eight  feet  and  hang  out 
marvellously  ruffled,  scalloped,  and  fringed  blossoms,  in 
gorgeous  shades  and  combinations,  in  great  profusion. 
Copper,  azure,  crimson,  rose  colour,  all  are  possible,  and 
many  boast  a  throat  or  markings  of  another  tint.  To 
insure  quick  germination  the  seeds  of  this  climber  may 
be  notched,  or  soaked  in  warm  water  for  a  few  hours  be- 
fore planting,  and  they  may  be  started  indoors  in  little 
pots  for  early  flowering. 

The  ghostly  Moon  Vine,  Ipomoea  grandiflora,  belongs 
to  the  same  family  as  the  foregoing.  It  makes  a  tre- 
mendous growth  in  a  season,  and  this  fact,  with  its 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  239 

luxuriant  foliage,  causes  it  to  be  in  great  demand  for 
screening  porches.  The  great  white  blossoms,  open  only 
at  night,  peer  uncannily  from  the  dusky  shadows  of  the 
dark  foliage  with  striking  effect,  but  I  do  not  like  this 
great  flower  which  cannot  bear  the  sweet  light  of  day. 
Another  member  of  the  family  considered  of  merit  is 
the  beautiful  Californian  /.  rubro  caerulea,  in  its  va- 
riety, "Heavenly  Blue,"  which  must  be  started  indoors, 
and  when  planted  out  given  a  warm  and  sheltered  sit- 
uation. 

The  Dolichos,  or  Hyacinth  Bean,  winds  its  way 
through  Oriental  poetry  as  the  Woodbine  and  Jasmine 
through  our  own.  It  is  a  rapid  climber,  flowering 
vigorously,  in  erect  spikes  of  purple  or  white  pea-shaped 
flowers,  from  July  until  autumn.  It  requires  a  sunny 
situation  and  enjoys  plentiful  watering  in  summer.  It 
may  be  started  indoors,  or  planted  out  after  the  ground 
is  well  warmed  by  the  May  sunshine. 

Coboea  scandens  is  a  popular  annual  climber.  It  is  a 
rapid  grower  and  bears  in  July  numerous  greenish- 
purple  cup-and-saucer-like  blossoms,  which  are  rather 
artistic  in  their  colouring.  It  enjoys  a  sunny  position 
and  a  soil  not  very  rich,  and  the  seeds  should  be  started 
indoors.  I  have  been  told  that  these  should  be  placed 
edgewise  in  the  pot,  but  I  do  not  know  if  this  is  fact  or 
tradition. 

Members  of  the  Hop  and  Gourd  families  provide 
satisfactory,  quick-growing  climbers.  Trained  over 


240  MY  GARDEN 

fences  and  arches  the  Hop  is  very  graceful  and  luxuriant, 
and  even  the  variegated  form  of  Humulus  Japonicus, 
the  variety  usually  grown,  is  quite  pretty. 

Raising  Gourds  is  very  popular  in  my  family,  and  a 
single  package  of  mixed  seed  will  frequently  yield  some 
very  strange  results.  Some  of  the  curious  fruit  is  quite 
ornamental,  but  the  vines  are  hardly  suitable  for  plant- 
ing save  in  out-of-the-way  places.  We  start  the  seed 
indoors  in  small  pots  and  transplant  when  danger  from 
frost  is  past. 

Adlumia  cirrhosa,  variously  known  as  Allegheny 
Vine,  Mountain  Fringe,  Climbing  Fumatory,  Wood 
Fringe,  and  Fairy  Creeper,  is  a  frail  biennial  vine  which, 
however,  blooms  the  first  year  from  seed,  of  endearing 
qualities  and  beguiling  grace.  Mrs.  Earl,  in  her  charm- 
ing "Old  Time  Gardens,"  thinks  that  no  garden  is  com- 
plete without  it,  "for  its  delicate  green  Rue-like  leaves 
lie  so  gracefully  on  Stone  and  brick  walls,  or  on  fences, 
and  it  trails  its  slender  tendrils  so  lightly  over  dull 
shrubs  that  are  not  flowering,  beautifying  them  afresh 
with  an  alien  bloom  of  delicate  little  pinkish  flowers  like 
tiny  bleeding  hearts."  Given  a  rich,  warm  soil  and  a 
sunny  exposure,  this  frail  little  climber  will  sometimes 
reach  a  height  of  twelve  feet  and  throw  itself  about  in  an 
extravagance  of  airy  festoons  and  garlands  quite  be- 
witching to  see. 

Last,  but  most  important,  are  the  two  annual  climb- 
ers most  in  use :  the  Nasturtium  and  the  Sweet  Pea.  The 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  £41 

former  is  too  well  known  to  need  description  and  too 
entirely  accommodating  to  require  special  treatment. 
There  is  nothing  it  will  not  do  for  you,  from  clothing 
with  a  garment  of  respectability  the  spot  where  the 
garbage  receptacle  reposes,  to  rejuvenating,  with  its 
vitality  and  brilliance,  a  dead  tree  or  rotting  stump.  It 
is  as  proud  to  climb  the  netting  around  the  chicken- 
yard  as  to  scale  the  dizzy  heights  of  fashion  in  the 
flower  garden.  Nasturtiums  do  best  planted  in  a  soil 
of  very  moderate  richness.  High  living  makes  them  run 
to  great  juicy  stalks  and  luxuriant  foliage,  but  few 
flowers. 

The  Sweet  Pea  is  not  quite  so  simple  a  proposition  in 
our  sun-baked  American  gardens,  and  though  loveliest 
and  most  desired  of  annuals  it  is  not  often  seen  satis- 
factorily grown,  at  least  in  the  Middle  and  Southern 
States.  I  think  early  planting  is  the  main  considera- 
tion, and  to  this  end  we  prepare  in  the  autumn  a  trench 
about  ten  inches  deep.  The  ground  has  been  pre- 
viously deeply  dug  and  enriched  with  well-rotted  cow 
manure,  and  the  seed  is  sown  thinly  at  the  bottom  of  the 
trench  about  the  middle  of  March,  and  covered  with 
about  two  inches  of  soil.  Later,  when  the  little  plants 
begin  to  grow,  the  earth  is  gradually  filled  in  around 
them,  until  the  trench  is  even  with  the  surrounding 
surface  and  the  shrinking  roots  buried  deep  in  the  cool 
earth,  and  safe  from  the  burning  rays  of  the  summer  sun. 
If  the  flowers  are  planted  in  the  vegetable  garden,  or  in 


MY  GARDEN 

some  other  inconspicuous  place,  a  mulch  of  old  stable 
litter  or  grass  will  further  protect  the  roots  and  conserve 
the  moisture,  giving  to  those  lovely  blossoms  a  longer  ten- 
ure of  life,  and  in  the  flower  garden,  where  the  stable 
litter  would  be  unsightly,  a  living  mulch  of  some  lightly 
rooted  annual  could  be  substituted.  Frequent  applica- 
tions of  liquid  manure  during  the  warm  weather  will 
greatly  benefit  the  plants,  and  constant  picking  is 
the  price  of  continued  bloom.  Strong  pea-brush  firmly 
inserted  in  the  ground  is  a  good  support  for  the  vines, 
or  chicken  wire,  strongly  staked  to  resist  the  wind. 
Each  season  brings  forth  many  beautiful  new  Sweet 
Peas,  so  a  list  given  now  would  soon  be  out  of  date,  but 
of  course  the  wonderful  Orchid-flowered  sorts  and  those 
known  as  "Spencer"  or  "Waved"  are  the  best. 

Of  perennial  vines  none  is  more  worthy  of  the  choic- 
est site  in  the  garden  and  of  our  most  intelligent  atten- 
tion than  the  Clematis.  Indeed  one  might  drape  all 
one's  walls  and  arbours  with  the  various  species  and 
varieties  and  be  in  no  danger  of  monotony,  or  suffer 
from  lack  of  bloom  from  May  until  frost.  It  is  a  great 
race,  varied  and  beautiful,  but  not  to  be  had,  by  any 
means,  for  the  mere  planting.  It  is  not  one  of  those 
plants  which  just  grows;  it  demands  the  very  best  that 
is  in  us  and  in  our  gardens;  it  puts  us  on  our  mettle,  it 
flouts  and  discourages  us,  it  lures  us  on  and  sometimes 
it  rewards  us  in  a  manner  to  turn  the  head  of  the  sanest 
gardener. 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  243 

Last  summer,  when  the  exquisite,  exotic-looking 
Clematis  Henryi  ascended  his  trellis  to  the  top  of  the 
garden-house  roof,  as  nonchalantly  as  if  it  were  his  reg- 
ular habit,  and  then  hung  out,  in  breathless  succession, 
some  fifty  or  sixty  huge,  gleaming  white  creations,  I  felt 
that  my  garden  cup  was  spilling  over  at  a  great  rate 
and  that  I  must  indeed  be  a  master  gardener.  The  fact 
that  this  summer,  in  the  trenchant  words  of  my  assist- 
ant, "Henry  up  and  died  ongrateful"  in  the  very 
flower  of  his  good  intentions,  did  not,  to  any  great  extent, 
dim  the  triumph  of  those  wonderful  weeks,  for  truly  it 
was  too  great  an  experience  to  be  vouchsafed  one  every 
summer. 

Henryi  belongs  among  what  are  called  the  "large- 
flowered  hybrids,"  of  which  there  are  a  number  of 
groups,  each  containing  numerous  varieties,  and  it  is 
toward  these  that  our  desire  and  ambition  turn,  rather 
than  toward  the  small-flowered,  wild  sorts,  so  useful  and 
so  much  more  amenable.  The  old  purple  C«  Jackmani 
is  the  best  known  of  the  large-flowered  Clematis  and  is 
one  of  the  most  easily  managed.  There  is  a  superb  vine 
here  on  the  front  porch  which  decks  itself  yearly  in  an 
imperial  robe  and  seems  to  ask  for  no  attention  save  a 
severe  pruning  in  the  early  spring.  The  pruning  of 
these  plants  is  of  great  importance,  and  each  group  must 
be  dealt  with  according  to  its  needs.  The  following  di- 
rections and  descriptions  are  gleaned  from  authoritative 
writings  on  the  Clematis,  as  well  as  from  some  experi- 


244  MY  GARDEN 

ence  in  my  own  garden  and  observation  in  a  great  many 
gardens  both  here  and  in  Great  Britain. 

The  soil  best  enjoyed  by  the  Clematis  is  light  and 
rich,  and  of  a  loamy  texture,  with  the  addition  of  some 
chalk  or  lime.  Good  drainage  is  essential,  but  that  in 
our  country  is  not  the  problem  that  it  is  in  England. 
An  annual  dose  of  well-rotted  cow  manure  is  needed  by 
the  large-flowered  hybrids,  and  all  sorts  appreciate  a 
warm  blanket  in  the  winter,  not  because  they  are  tender 
so  much  as  that  the  extra  nourishment  thus  procured 
is  beneficial  and  relieves  the  plants  of  the  strain  of 
our  extreme  cold.  A  mulch  of  stable  litter  is  gratefully 
received  after  spring  planting;  this  conserves  the  mois- 
ture until  the  plants  are  established  and  the  roots  go 
deep  enough  to  avoid  the  heat  of  the  sun.  When  growth 
starts  in  the  spring  the  tender  young  shoots  should  be 
carefully  looked  after  and  gently  tied  to  some  support, 
for  they  are  very  brittle  and  easily  injured,  and  as  it  is 
upon  these  shoots  that  many  of  the  sorts  bear  their 
bloom  they  merit  extra  care.  It  has  been  discovered 
that  some  shade  for  the  lower  stems  of  the  Clematis  vine 
is  essential  to  its  well-being,  and  so  it  may  well  be 
planted  at  the  back  of  herbaceous  borders,  to  climb  the 
wall  or  fence,  or  trail  over  the  hedge,  or  be  supported  on 
tall  pea-brush. 

But  even  with  all  these  precautions  and  attentions 
the  large-flowered  Clematis  will  often  "up  and  die  on- 
grateful,"  and  the  reason  for  this,  Mr.  William  Robinson 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  245 

believes,  is  that  they  are  grafted  upon  unsuitable  wild 
stock,  instead  of  being  raised  from  seed  or  layers;  and 
that  they  are  frequently  the  victims  of  a  disease,  bac- 
terial in  its  nature,  "which  commences  so  insidiously 
that  one  only  perceives  its  presence  when  too  late." 
Application  of  Bordeaux  mixture  is  said  to  be  a  preven- 
tive, and  also  a  "pinch  of  sulphur  thrown  at  the  foot  of 
a  plant  after  it  has  begun  to  grow,  and  renewed  at  inter- 
vals, is  efficacious  as  a  preservative  from  disease."  To 
those  wishing  to  make  a  study  of  this  most  wonderful 
flower  I  would  suggest  Mr.  Robinson's  sympathetic 
and  helpful  little  book,  "The  Virgin's  Bower,"  and 
"The  Clematis,"  by  Moore  and  Jackman,  now  out  of 
print,  but  procurable  through  dealers  in  old  books. 
The  large-flowered  hybrids  may  all  be  termed  slender 
climbers,  and  some  of  them  reach  a  considerable  height. 

The  Jackmani  Group.  Enormously  free  flowering 
in  early  July  and  thereafter  occasionally  through  the 
summer.  Flowers  on  new  shoots.  Prune  hard  back 
in  late  autumn  (November)  or  early  spring.  A  splendid 
vine  for  trellises,  porches,  and  arches. 

Fine  varieties:  Jackmani  superba,  large  royal  purple; 
Jackmani  alba,  pure  white;  Madame  Baron- Veillard, 
very  free,  satiny  mauve-pink;  Gypsy  Queen,  reddish- 
purple. 

Viticella  Group.  Blooms  freely  all  summer  from  July 
and  is  perhaps  the  most  reliable  of  the  large-flowered 
kinds.  Flowers  on  new  shoots.  Prune  rather  sharply 


246  MY  GARDEN 

in  late  November.  Perfectly  hardy.  Flowers  not  so 
large  as  lanuginosa  but  more  numerous. 

Fine  varieties :  Kermesina,  clear  reddish-mauve,  very 
free;  Grandiflora  punicea,  wine-red;  Viticella,  bluish- 
purple;  Alba,  gray,  white. 

Lanuginosa  Group.  Enormous  flowers  borne  suc- 
cessionally  through  summer  and  autumn.  Flowers  on 
new  wood.  In  pruning  remove  weak  shoots  and  dead 
wood  in  spring.  Beautiful  vine  for  trellis  or  post. 

Fine  varieties:  Beauty  of  Worcester,  violet-blue; 
Lady  Caroline  Neville,  plum;  Madame  Van  Houtte, 
white;  Marcel  Moser,  soft  lilac  with  reddish  band; 
Henryi,  pure  white. 

Florida  Group.  Flowers  on  old  wood.  Prune  di- 
rectly after  flowering  by  removing  seed  vessels  and 
cutting  out  useless  or  crowded  shoots.  Blooms  in 
summer.  Double. 

Fine  varieties:  Belle  of  Woking,  silver-gray;  Duchess 
of  Edinburgh,  pure  white. 

Patens  Group.  Flowers  on  old  wood  and  requires 
same  treatment  as  Florida.  Spring  and  summer. 
Large  and  showy. 

Fine  varieties:  Nellie  Koster,  rosy-mauve;  Miss  Bate- 
man,  pure  white;  Mrs.  Geo.  Jackman,  satiny  white  with 
ivory  bar;  Sir  Garnet  Wolseley,  dull  blue  with  reddish 
band. 

Clematis  coccinea.  Dies  to  the  ground  in  winter,  so 
needs  no  pruning.  Flowers  in  July  and  August.  Scar- 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  247 

let,  urn-shaped  blossoms.  Very  gay  and  effective. 
Easily  grown  sort,  and  charming  for  posts,  arches,  or  for 
trailing  over  shrubs  and  balustrades.  Easily  raised 
from  seed.  There  are  hybrids  of  this  form,  but  I  have 
not  seen  them. 

The  small-flowered  forms  of  the  Clematis  are  not  by 
any  means  to  be  neglected,  for  these  are  among  the  most 
generous  and  charming  of  climbers  and  seldom  oppose 
any  obstacle  to  our  desires.  Much  more  luxuriant 
than  the  large-flowered  hybrids,  they  are  splendid  for 
porches,  pergolas,  and  walls,  dead  trees,  or  for  any  posi- 
tion where  a  vigorous  climber  is  required.  C.  montana 
climbs  to  a  great  height  and  decorates  itself  in  May  with 
yard-long  garlands  of  anemone-like  bloom,  white  with 
hints  of  pink  and  a  pleasant  fragrance.  There  is  a 
reddish  form  of  montana,  more  lately  introduced,  which 
is  said  to  be  extremely  beautiful,  and  grandiflora  has 
flowers  much  larger  than  the  type.  To  prune  montana 
cut  away  the  weak,  straggling,  or  overcrowded  branches 
in  late  March,  and  carefully  train  the  long  year-old  wood 
at  full  length  to  cover  the  desired  space. 

C.  paniculata,  the  vigorous  Japanese  climber  with 
masses  of  creamy  bloom  in  August  and  September,  is 
well  known  and  useful.  C.  vitalba  is  another  fluffy, 
white-flowered  sort  and  a  high  climber.  C.  flammula 
and  C.  f.  var.  rubra  bear,  respectively,  clusters  of  small 
white  and  purple  flowers,  deliciously  scented,  in  August 
and  September.  Our  own  native  Traveller's  Joy,  C. 


248  MY  GARDEN 

virginica,  is  too  well  known  to  need  description.  It  is 
quite  worthy  a  place  in  the  garden,  and  nothing  is  more 
softly  lovely  for  trailing  over  rough  banks,  rocks,  or  low 
fences.  All  these  sorts  need  no  pruning  save  the  re- 
moval of  overcrowded  branches,  or  useless  shoots,  and 
any  good  garden  soil  and  a  sunny  situation  inspires 
them  to  do  their  best. 

Honeysuckles  are  endeared  to  us  by  long  years  of 
companionship,  by  the  wayside  and  in  the  garden.  One 
cannot  imagine  a  garden  without  them,  though  Bacon, 
in  his  well-known  essay  "Of  Gardens,"  in  giving  a  list  of 
plants  proper  for  a  garden,  while  including  Honey- 
suckles, adds,  "so  they  be  somewhat  afar  off."  What 
could  there  be  in  Honeysuckles,  "ripened  by  the  sun," 
that  one  would  not  want  right  under  one's  nose?  Truly 
the  great  man  had  his  idiosyncrasies!  For  all  its 
scrambling  ways  the  Honeysuckle  seems  the  most  do- 
mestic of  vines — to  belong  to  cottage  doorways,  the 
living-room  windows,  or  the  favourite  corner  of  the 
porch,  and  its  delicious  perfume,  which  Maeterlinck 
called  the  "soul  of  dew,"  wafted  to  us  in  our  country 
walks  and  drives  seems  ever  to  proclaim  a  home. 

Hall's  variety  is  a  very  good,  almost  evergreen 
Honeysuckle,  which  blooms  from  June  until  freezing 
weather  and  is  a  strong,  rapid  climber.  Lonicera  peri- 
clymenum  is  a  favourite  variety,  and  its  reddish,  fra- 
grant blossoms  are  freely  produced.  I  have  not  found 
that  it  grows  quite  so  tall  as  Hall's  but  it  is  useful  in 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  249 

many  situations.  This  is  the  "woodbine"  of  poetry. 
Lonicera  japonica  var.  aurea  is  the  golden-leaved  sort, 
seldom  seen  to  advantage,  as  its  foliage  is  too  striking  for 
indiscriminate  use,  but  which  is  very  attractive  used 
with  white-flowered  climbing  Roses  or  other  white- 
flowered  climbers  and  with  plants  of  harmonious  colour- 
ing near  at  hand.  There  are  many  sorts  of  Honey- 
suckle, but  these  three,  with  the  old  trumpet  or  coral 
Honeysuckle,  L.  sempervirens,  ever  a  source  of  pride  in 
old  gardens,  are  enough  for  much  enjoyment.  These 
sweet  and  patient  vines  will  stand  more  neglect  than  any 
others,  will  grow  in  dry,  shady  places,  in  stony  ground, 
or  in  rough  grass,  but  will  eloquently  respond  to  good 
living  and  a  comfortable  situation. 

Probably  of  all  flowering  climbers  the  Wistaria  pro- 
vokes the  most  ardent  admiration.  The  Chinese  Wis- 
taria is  the  best  and  strongest  for  our  climate,  but  the 
Japanese  sort,  W.  multijuga,  which  the  Japanese  grow 
along  the  eaves  of  their  houses,  allowing  the  superb  blos- 
soms to  form  a  fringe  sometimes  a  yard  deep,  is  a  splen- 
did variety  and  well  worth  a  trial.  Both  have  white 
varieties,  which,  if  anything,  are  lovelier  than  the  purple, 
but  it  is  more  satisfying  to  have  both.  The  Chinese 
and  Japanese  Wistarias  bloom  in  May,  and  there  is 
a  sort,  American,  I  think,  W.  speciosa,  which  flowers 
in  June  and  July.  But  this  plant  is  only  useful  where 
a  succession  is  desired,  as  it  is  not  nearly  so  fine. 

Wistarias  are  heavy  feeders;  indeed,  it  would  be  diffi- 


250  MY  GARDEN 

cult  to  provide  a  too  rich  diet  for  them,  and  to  this  end  it 
is  a  good  plan  to  trench  the  soil  at  least  three  feet  deep, 
filling  the  hole  with  a  mixture  of  good  garden  soil  and 
well-rotted  stable  manure.  In  the  matter  of  pruning  and 
training  I  quote  Mr.  Wm.  McCollom's  valuable  book  on 
vines :  "  If  a  Wistaria  has  been  growing  undisturbed  for  a 
few  years,  you  will  find  that  it  has  a  large  percentage  of 
long,  thin,  wiry  shoots.  These  do  not  produce  flowers 
and  should  be  removed  at  any  time  of  the  year.  The 
short,  stumpy  spurs  are  the  kind  that  flower,  and  to 
produce  these  the  plants  should  be  pruned  back  to 
within  two  or  three  eyes  of  the  flowers  immediately 
after  they  fall.  The  aim  always  should  be  to  keep  one 
good  shoot  coming  on  each  season,  to  provide  room  for 
it  cut  one  of  the  oldest  shoots  out  entirely.  If  you 
desire  the  plant  to  attain  a  great  height,  keep  one  of  the 
shoots  growing  until  it  has  reached  the  height  desired, 
when  it  can  be  spurred  in  to  produce  flowers.  '  Spurring ' 
is  clipping  off  the  top  and  cutting  the  laterals  close  to 
the  main  stem."  No  finer  climber  exists  for  pergolas, 
walls,  or  porches  than  the  Wistaria,  and  its  period  of 
bloom  is  ever  a  delight. 

A  vine  of  great  vigour  and  pertinacity  is  Tecoma  radi- 
cans,  better  known  as  the  Trumpet  Creeper.  By  the 
way,  the  most  recent  authorities  give  Campsis  as  the 
correct  name  instead  of  Tecoma.  It  is  a  bold  climber, 
which  south  of  New  Jersey  decorates  the  woods  and 
roadsides  in  a  wild  state  and  which,  Miss  Loundsberry 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  251 

says,  has  become  a  troublesome  weed  in  parts  of  the 
west,  very  difficult  to  eradicate,  but  how  splendid  must 
be  the  wastes  illumined  by  its  vivid  bloom. 

It  climbs  by  means  of  aerial  rootlets  and  will  cling  to 
wood  or  stone,  which  makes  it  valuable  for  covering 
buildings,  as  there  is  no  trouble  in  fastening  it  up,  but 
it  is  a  great,  tumbling,  boisterous  thing,  fitter  to  climb 
the  walls  of  the  stables  or  outbuildings  than  of  the 
dwelling.  For  pergola  and  trellis  it  is  a  bit  too  free  and 
energetic,  but  for  positions  where  a  bold,  striking  effect 
is  desired  there  is  nothing  better.  Its  orange-scarlet 
flowers  are  borne  in  August  and  seem  a  fitting  intro- 
duction to  the  ruddy  tints  so  soon  to  prevail.  Any 
necessary  pruning  should  be  done  in  spring,  as  the 
flowers  form  on  the  new  wood.  If  given  a  rich  soil  and  a 
sunny  situation  the  vine  is  capable  of  a  height  of  forty 
feet.  The  Chinese  Tecoma  grandiflora  with  its  variety 
atrosanguinea  are  better  in  most  ways  than  T.  radi- 
cans. 

A  slender  climber,  very  dear  to  me  from  long  associa- 
tion, is  Akebia  quinata.  I  think  I  have  never  seen  it  in 
any  garden  save  my  own  and  the  garden  of  my  child- 
hood. There  it  formed,  in  its  luxuriance,  a  deep  reveal 
around  the  library  windows,  and  in  spring  rendered  the 
room  almost  untenable  with  its  clouds  of  warm  perfume. 
This  was  a  very  old  vine,  for  the  Akebia  is  a  slender 
thing,  and  the  cushionlike  growth  that  I  remember 
must  have  been  the  result  of  many  years.  This  climber 


MY  GARDEN 

is  a  Japanese,  and  Donald  McDonald,  in  his  book  of 
"Fragrant  Flowers  and  Leaves,"  says  that  it  is  much 
used  in  decorating  eastern  gardens.  The  foliage  is 
small  and  very  pretty,  and  the  little  three-cornered, 
brownish-plum  coloured  blossoms,  which  cover  the 
vine,  literally  from  top  to  toe,  are  quaint  and  pretty  and 
deliciously  sweet.  Here  it  very  delightfully  veils  one 
end  of  the  garden-house  porch,  and  blooms  about  the 
first  of  May.  English  garden  books  frequently  refer  to 
the  Akebia  as  not  quite  hardy,  but  certainly  here  it  has 
proved  itself  quite  equal  to  the  New  York  winters.  A 
light,  rich  soil  is  its  preference,  and  it  will  grow  in  partial 
shade.  It  needs  no  pruning,  save  an  occasional  short- 
ening of  the  long  branches  to  encourage  growth  at  the 
bottom,  for  this  slender  thing  is  apt  to  hurry  to  the  top 
of  its  trellis  and  then  fling  itself  about  in  an  abandon  of 
wreaths  and  garlands,  quite  unmindful  of  the  neediness 
of  its  lower  limbs. 

Actinidia  arguta  is  another  Japanese  vine  not  often 
seen.  It  is  of  twining  habit  and  bears  little  clusters  of 
ivory-coloured  blossoms  with  black  anthers,  and  the 
foliage  is  dark  and  fine.  It  loves  a  sunny  situation,  and 
after  the  first  two  years,  when  the  plant  is  thoroughly 
established,  may  be  cut  back  about  half  in  early  spring 
to  keep  it  in  good  and  full  condition. 

An  old  friend  is  the  Matrimony  Vine,  Lyciumchinensis, 
but  not  so  valued  but  what  one  may  easily  do  without 
it.  Its  red  berries  are  attractive,  but  the  blossoms  are 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  253 

unimportant  and  the  foliage  too  prone  to  mildew;  and  al- 
together I  should  choose  something  else. 

Aristolochia  sipho  is  a  climber  that  I  frankly  dislike, 
though  my  feeling  is  not  shared  by  many,  for  I  fre- 
quently see  it  on  porches,  annihilating  sunshine  and  air, 
but  forming  an  effective  screen.  Its  leaves  are  large  and 
its  growth  dense,  and  the  curious  chocolate-coloured 
blossoms  somewhat  resemble  a  pipe  in  shape,  hence  the 
name,  Dutchman's  Pipe. 

A  vine  of  fairly  recent  introduction  and  one  of  real 
value,  it  seems  to  me,  is  Polygonum  balshuanicum,  a 
slender  climber,  with  masses  of  filmy  white  flowers  in 
the  late  summer.  It  makes  a  fairly  heavy  growth  and 
is  a  good  climber  for  trellises  and  porches. 

Of  vines  grown  largely  for  their  foliage  none  is  so  fine 
as  the  English  Ivy,  "the  vine  of  glossy  sprout,"  and 
contrary  to  the  suspicions  of  many  we  may  have  it  in 
a  good  deal  of  luxuriance  in  this  country  if  a  little 
courtesy  is  extended  to  it.  In  the  first  place,  we  im- 
patient Americans  must  be  patient  with  the  British 
deliberateness  of  the  Ivy.  For  two  years  after  planting, 
and  sometimes  three,  it  will  do  nothing  but  survey  the 
situation  and  venture  a  leaf  or  two,  but  after  that  given 
time,  good  soil,  and  a  north  wall  it  will  start  a  steady 
ascent  and  very  soon  present  a  broad  and  beautiful  sur- 
face of  dark  and  shining  green.  Mr.  McCollom  recom- 
mends protecting  the  young  plants  in  winter  for  a  few 
years  with  a  mulch  of  manure  and  a  screen  of  evergreen 


254  MY  GARDEN 

branches.  Sometimes  the  leaves  become  brown  and 
dry  in  winter,  but  those  may  be  rubbed  off  and  the  vine 
will  reclothe  itself  in  a  short  time.  Of  course  the  Ivy 
is  not  the  vine  for  all  situations  in  our  country,  a  south- 
ern exposure  being  very  trying  to  it,  but  wherever  a 
close,  green  covering  is  desired  and  it  is  possible  to 
establish  the  Ivy  the  result  will  more  than  justify  the 
trouble  and  waiting. 

We  are  much  too  quick  to  plant  the  accommodating 
Ampelopsis  Veitchii,  which,  while  one  of  the  most  useful 
of  vines,  is  much  too  rampant  and  pervasive  a  subject 
for  many  situations.  There  are  several  species  of 
Ampelopsis  besides  Veitchii.  There  are  two  varieties 
growing  here,  purpurea,  and  robusta,  but  I  can  see  little 
difference  between  these  and  Veitchii,  in  fact  I  cannot 
tell  the  one  from  the  other.  Its  fine  autumn  colouring 
is  the  chief  charm  of  this  vine  and  in  this  it  is  outclassed 
by  its  relative,  the  Virginia  Creeper  (Ampelopsis  quin- 
quefolia),  overlooked  perhaps  in  summer,  but  claiming 
the  admiration  of  all  in  autumn,  when  every  low  wall  in 
the  countryside  has  its  burning  tangle  and  high  in  the 
branches  of  many  a  tree  Nature's  signal  fires  flash 
forth.  It  is  a  graceful,  headlong  vine,  clinging  closely, 
then  hanging  in  great,  loose  festoons,  and  ever  impatient 
of  restraint.  Any  hint  from  us  in  the  way  of  cleats  or 
binding  cords  is  not  respectfully  received;  indeed,  will 
probably  not  be  noticed  at  all,  for  the  Virginia  Creeper 
will  swing,  or  wave  or  cling  or  creep  as  the  notion  takes 


GREEN  DRAPERIES  255 

it,  and  perhaps  it  is  this  wayward  quality  which  makes  it 
a  beloved  thing. 

Another  native  which  endures  garden  life  with  equa- 
nimity is  Celastrus  scandens,  the  Bittersweet,  the  chief 
glory  of  which  is  the  gay  scarlet  berries  that  remain 
upon  it  all  winter  long  and  create  a  bit  of  cheer  in  the 
white  winter  garden.  It  will  grow  in  sun  or  shade,  and 
takes  kindly  to  any  lift  offered  for  its  upward  journey. 

Euonymus  radicans  is  a  good  evergreen  vine,  where 
great  height  is  not  required,  for  it  seldom  goes  higher 
than  eight  feet  and  is  pretty  deliberate  in  getting  that 
far.  For  low  walls  it  is  excellent,  and  the  variegated 
form  is  pretty  used  in  many  situations.  When  one 
reads  such  a  book  as  Mr.  McCollom's  "Vines,"  one 
realizes  the  great  number  of  climbers  in  existence  and 
the  few  in  general  cultivation.  My  own  list  is  a  slen- 
der one,  but  all  these,  unless  otherwise  stated,  are  both 
willing  and  lovely,  and  whatever  other  climbers  are 
lacking  these  should  be  in  every  garden. 


CHAPTER  SIXTEEN 

TROUBLE 

More  grows  in  the  garden  than  the  gardener  sows. 

— Old  Proverb. 
Most  subject  is  the  fattest  soil  to  weeds. 

— Shakespeare. 

YES,  even  into  the  garden  trouble  finds  its  way. 
Borne  upon  the  silver  blade  of  the  frost,  the 
beating  wings  of  the  wind,  the  parched  tongue 
of  the  drought,  it  burrows  in  the  ground,  flies  in  the  air, 
creeps  in  at  the  gate  and  over  the  wall,  and  here,  as 
elsewhere,  the  seeds  of  trouble  are  sown  and  lusty  prog- 
eny arise  and  thrive.     Trouble  in  the  garden,  however, 
is  without  sting;  rather  is  there  incentive  and  exhil- 
aration in  the  problems  to  be  met  and  solved,  the  ene- 
mies to  be  vanquished. 

Garden  trouble  may  for  convenience  of  attack  be  di- 
vided into  five  sections,  each  of  which  has  a  rather  de- 
pressing number  of  subdivisions — that  is,  they  seem 
depressing  when  gathered  together  into  one  chapter,  as 
they  never  are  in  any  one  garden,  for  the  blessings  in 
every  garden  far  outnumber  the  adversities.  Here  is  the 
blacklist:  weeds,  insects,  plant  diseases,  animals,  and 
the  elements.  I  believe  there  are  those  who  would 

256 


TROUBLE  257 

create  a  sixth  division — gardeners — but,  being  my  own 
head  gardener  and  constituting  a  large  portion  of  my 
working  force,  this  form  of  trouble  has  not  yet  come  to 
me.  My  assistant  is  a  young  man  possessed  of  that 
rarest  and  most  golden  of  virtues  among  gardeners,  that 
of  sticking  to  the  letter  of  his  instructions  without 
casting  about  in  his  mind  for  variations  on  the  spirit, 
and  who,  after  six  years'  association  with  the  garden 
people,  calls  almost  every  plant  a  Lily,  yet  has  a  percep- 
tion so  delicately  tuned  to  the  difference  between  weeds 
and  licensed  dwellers,  an  eye  and  hand  so  savage  for 
offending  sucker  and  ruinous  insects,  and  a  nature  so 
genuinely  kind  to  man  and  beast  and  the  very  least 
seedling,  that  he  counts  along  with  such  of  the  garden's 
blessings  as  the  gentle  showers  and  the  mild  south  wind. 
Jonas,  for  so  we  shall  call  him,  has  other  good  quali- 
ties. He  does  not  insist  upon  cleaning  up  the  garden 
paths  too  thoroughly.  He  takes  out  what  he  is  told, 
but  the  colony  of  self-sown  Pansies  at  the  foot  of  the 
garden  steps  is  quite  safe,  and  the  green  embroidery 
which  outlines  the  joints  of  a  flight  of  steps  and  will  one 
day  burst  into  a  lavender  glory  called  Candytuft  is  not 
treated  to  the  startling  language  and  summary  methods 
Jonas  keeps  for  weeds.  Many  a  pleasant  accident  is 
saved  for  our  delight  by  his  unconscious  discernment. 
Mulleins,  for  a  long  time,  he  could  not  understand  or 
endure,  and  whether  they  were  our  native  sort  or  those 
raised  with  care  from  imported  seed  they  all  came  out 


258  MY  GARDEN 

and  knew  the  rubbish  heap,  but  now  the  order  is  re- 
versed and  they  all  stay  in,  natives  and  foreigners  tower- 
ing together,  and  it  is  better  so.  There  are  those  who 
hint  that  Jonas'  "castiron  back"  lacks  the  hinge  of  con- 
centrated endeavour,  and  perhaps  this,  too,  is  fortunate, 
for,  while  I  like  to  talk  of  discernment,  it  may  be  that 
when  Jonas  leans  upon  his  hoe  and  his  gaze  sinks  deep 
into  the  green  of  the  mountain,  or  intently  follows  the 
sweeping  flight  of  some  broad-winged  bird  'tis  then  my 
little  outlaws  get  their  innings — the  wise-faced  Pansies 
in  the  path  nudge  each  other  and  grow  apace,  and  the 
wanton  Poppy-person  in  the  grass  spreads  out  her 
silken  skirts  and  rocks  for  glee. 

But  we  have  not  yet  come  to  trouble,  and  it  is  a 
serious  matter,  not  to  be  lightly  treated.  Well,  weeds, 
of  course,  are  the  most  persistent  of  our  troubles;  but, 
after  all,  what  is  a  weed  ?  They  appear  to  have  different 
meanings  for  different  minds .  Wordsworth  defines  them 
as  "flowers  out  of  place,"  the  ever-kindly  Emerson 
thought  "a  weed  is  a  poor  creature  whose  virtues  have 
not  yet  been  discovered."  Thoreau  wrote:  "Flowers 
must  not  be  too  profuse  and  obtrusive,  else  they  acquire 
the  reputation  of  weeds,"  and  Shakespeare  had  no 
patience  with  weeds  and  wrote  vindictively  of  their 
sinning.  I  have  a  fine  book  published  by  the  Canadian 
Government  upon  the  subject  of  weeds,  which  gives 
what  seems  to  me  a  fair  definition:  "Any  injurious, 
troublesome,  or  unsightly  plant  that  is,  at  the  same  time, 


TROUBLE  259 

useless  or  comparatively  so."  Many  weeds  have  much 
charm,  and  I  have  to  confess  to  a  foolish  fondness  for 
some  very  troublesome  ones,  but  one  must,  after  all,  be 
a  consistent  gardener  and  mind  the  old  saw: 


'One  year's  seeding, 
Seven  years'  weeding." 


Weeds,  of  course,  are  annual,  biennial,  and  perennial, 
and  it  is  rather  important  to  know  to  which  section 
one's  garden  weeds  belong.  The  extermination  of 
annual  and  biennial  weeds,  if  never  allowed  to  bear  seed, 
is  a  simple  matter,  but  perennial  weeds  present  greater 
difficulties.  The  roots  of  most  of  them  are  outrageously 
persistent,  any  tiny  piece  being  detached  at  once  be- 
coming the  self-supporting  head  of  a  thriving  family, 
well  versed  in  the  art  of  defying  man,  and  woman,  too. 
To  this  class  belongs  the  succulent  "Pussley,"  which 
Henry  Ward  Beecher  says  is  the  "vegetable  type  of  im- 
mortality." It  must  be  gotten  out  of  the  ground  en- 
tirely, else  the  labour  is  vain. 

Cutting  the  tops  off  weeds  has  the  same  effect  as 
cutting  children's  hair:  thickens  the  growth,  and  when 
one  turns  them  under,  burying  roots  and  seeds,  one  is 
increasing  one's  tribulations  a  hundredfold. 

The  seeds  of  many  weeds  retain  their  vitality  for  a 
long  time  and  will  lie  in  the  ground  for  years,  awaiting 
the  psychological  moment  to  burst  forth  in  fresh  and 
green  contempt  of  our  lax  working  methods.  It  is  the 


260  MY  GARDEN 

part  of  wisdom  to  burn  all  weeds,  whether  in  seed  or  not, 
and  to  keep  the  ground  well  stirred,  especially  in  the 
spring,  to  insure  the  destruction  of  all  aspiring  seedlings. 

Weeds  rob  the  soil  of  food  intended  for  plants  that 
are  in  the  garden  by  invitation  and  in  times  of  drought 
are  a  real  menace,  for  they  are  a  thirsty  lot  and  do  not 
hesitate  to  take  all  they  can  get  of  the  meagre  supply  of 
moisture  in  the  ground. 

The  list  is  not  long  of  those  plants  which  give  Jonas 
and  me  great  trouble  in  the  garden. 

The  worst  is  Chickweed,  an  insignificant  appearing 
thing,  with  a  meek  white  eye  and  no  conscience.  It 
looks  a  harmless  thing,  but  do  not  be  deceived;  the  seed 
is  as  hardy  as  iron  and  is  ripening  all  the  time.  Even  in 
midwinter,  if  the  sun  but  opens  half  an  eye  upon  it,  the 
tiny  blossoms  unfold  and  become  seed.  It  loves  the 
rich  soil  of  the  garden,  but  in  spite  of  its  taste  for  liigh 
life  it  is  not  too  nice  to  harbour  plant  lice,  or  to  covet 
anything  that  is  its  neighbours.  It  is  one  of  the  most 
difficult  weeds  to  eradicate  but  is  dealt  with  more  easily 
in  dry  weather.  It  is  an  annual. 

Butter-and-eggs  (Linaria  vulgaris)  is  a  truly  lovely 
thing,  so  lovely  that  I  used  to  encourage  it  to  grow  in  a 
thicket  of  peach-leaved  Campanulas,  among  whose  lilac 
and  white  blossoms  the  little  yellow  weed  was  charm- 
ing. This  was  several  years  ago  and  we  have  made  little 
headway  in  getting  rid  of  it,  but  the  poor  Campanulas 
were  choked  to  death  in  short  order.  It  is  a  deep-root- 


TROUBLE  261 

ing  perennial  and  keeps  itself  going  by  means  of  its 
colonizing  rootlets  and  seeds,  which  are  ripe  in  August. 
Do  not  suffer  it. 

In  the  loose  soil  of  the  garden  Plantains  are  easy 
enough  to  pull  out.  They  are  perennial  and  increase  by 
seeds  which  ripen  in  July.  In  paths  and  grass  a  curving 
grapefruit  knife  is  of  great  assistance  in  removing  them. 

It  is  difficult  to  know  how  a  great  coarse  thing  like  the 
Burdock  finds  its  way  into  the  garden,  but  so  it  does  and 
is  most  unsightly.  It  is  a  biennial,  with  a  great  thick 
taproot,  which  C.  D.  Warner  says  "goes  deeper  than 
conscience."  Cut  below  the  crown  of  the  plant  and 
apply  a  handful  of  salt.  This  will  insure  its  speedy 
demise.  The  curled-dock,  too,  is  a  coarse  and  ugly 
perennial  interloper,  which  should  be  pulled  up  before 
seed  forms.  It  harbours  plant  lice.  Sheep  Sorrel,  or 
Sourgrass,  is  a  relative  of  the  above,  and  on  account  of 
its  multitudinous  seeds  and  fast- travelling  perennial  root- 
stock  becomes  a  great  nuisance  in  the  garden.  Every 
smallest  particle  of  it  should  be  removed. 

In  this  garden  we  have  great  trouble  with  Black  Bind- 
weed or  Wild  Buckwheat,  a  little  twining  annual  vine 
with  shining,  arrow-shaped  leaves  and  small  greenish 
flowers.  Strangulation  is  its  delight,  and  the  only 
remedy  against  it  is  to  remove  it  before  seeding. 

Shepherd's  Purse,  a  near  relative  of  Pepper  Grass,  is 
often  quite  an  embarrassing  little  plague  here,  and  it  is 
one  of  those  weeds  toward  which  I  feel  a  kindness — it  is 


MY  GARDEN 

so  pretty  in  the  spring,  spraying  its  delicate  greenery 
about  upon  the  moist  brown  earth,  and  one  experiences 
a  pang  in  rooting  out  a  thing  so  young  and  pretty.  But 
be  strong!  To  say  that  Shepherd's  Purse  is  a  hardy 
annual  does  not  do  it  justice,  for  like  the  Chickweed, 
when  not  actually  frozen  into  passivity,  it  is  blooming 
and  ripening  seed,  and  statistics  say  that  a  single  plant 
is  capable  of  maturing  50,000  seeds,  and  this  at  a  dis- 
gracefully early  age.  This  industrious  young  thing  is 
prone  to  attacks  of  various  diseases  which  will  spread  to 
other  plants  and  vegetables. 

I  do  not  know  how  we  came  to  be  so  annoyed  by  the 
Night-flowering  Catchfly,  or  Sticky  Cockle,  unless  it  is 
that  the  young  plants  very  much  resemble  several  of  our 
lawful  citizens  and  so  are  overlooked.  It  is  a  tall 
annual,  covered  all  over  with  glandular  hairs  and  bear- 
ing yellowish- white  flowers  which  open  at  night. 

Dandelions  are  ever  a  trouble,  and  yet  how  glad  we  are 
to  see  them  in  early  March,  venturing  a  tousled  yellow 
head  here  and  there  in  sheltered  corners.  My  little  boy 
calls  them  his  "spring  friends,"  and  does  not  like  the 
harsh  treatment  they  receive.  In  the  loose  soil  of  the 
garden  it  is  easily  pulled  up,  but  in  lawns  and  paths 
more  drastic  measures  are  necessary.  Salt  put  upon 
the  crown  of  the  plant  is  said  to  kill  it. 

Jonas  tells  the  children  and  me  that  the  Dandelion 
is  a  great  weather  prophet,  and  the  Chickweed,  too.  If 
the  winged  seeds  of  the  former  fly  upon  a  windless  day, 


TROUBLE  263 

rain  is  certain,  and  if  the  meek  eyes  of  the  Chickweed 
close  on  a  clear  day,  rain  may  be  expected  before  many 
hours. 

INSECT   PESTS   AND   FUNGOUS   DISEASES 

In  considering  these  animal  and  vegetable  enemies  of 
our  plants  it  is  well  to  remember  that  plants  in  lusty 
health  are  much  less  liable  to  succumb  to  disorder  than 
those  in  a  weak  and  depleted  condition.  Here,  as  else- 
where, an  ounce  of  prevention  is  the  better  course. 

Cutworms.  Disgusting,  fat  grayish  worms  about  an 
inch  long.  Its  ogrish  vocation  is  to  bite  off  the  tops  of 
promising  young  plants.  It  may  frequently  be  found 
callously  sleeping  just  beneath  the  soil  at  the  foot  of  its 
victim.  Let  no  mercy  temper  your  justice.  In  culti- 
vating the  soil  in  spring  keep  a  sharp  lookout  for  cut- 
worms and  grubs.  Little  piles  of  bran  made  into  a 
paste  with  sugar  and  water  and  seasoned  with  Paris 
Green  will  prove  a  fatal  attraction.  Deep  holes  dug  at 
short  intervals  among  young  plants  will  often  prove 
their  undoing,  for  they  are  stupid  fellows  and  falling  in 
are  unable  to  get  out. 

White  Grub.  Not  unlike  the  cutworm,  but  lighter  in 
colour  and  more  difficult  to  get  at,  as  it  works  at  the 
roots  of  the  plants,  injuring  them  fatally.  The  white 
grub  is  most  prevalent  where  there  is  fresh  manure.  The 
only  way  I  know  of  to  get  rid  of  it  is  to  turn  it  out  of 
the  soil  and  destroy  it. 


264  MY  GARDEN 

Wire  Worms.  These  are  the  grubs  of  a  kind  of  beetle. 
They  are  about  three-eighths  of  an  inch  long  and  look 
like  a  piece  of  rusty  wire.  They  attack  the  roots  of 
plants  in  great  numbers  and  are  more  in  evidence  in  dry, 
hot  soils.  Arsenites  sprinkled  upon  little  piles  of  fresh 
clover  is  said  to  appeal  to  them. 

Red  Spider.  This  is  an  infinitesimal  but  most  pestif- 
erous visitant,  which  carries  on  its  depredations  on  the 
under  sides  of  the  leaves  of  plants,  causing  them  to  turn 
brown.  It  flourishes  most  in  dry  weather,  and  spraying 
the  plants  with  some  force  or  washing  them  with  soap- 
suds are  the  remedies. 

Aster  Beetle.  A  merciless  black  beetle,  which  de- 
scends upon  the  garden  in  hordes  in  late  summer,  at- 
tacking the  Asters,  both  perennial  and  annual,  and 
others  of  the  composite  class.  A  very  weak  solution  of 
Paris  Green  applied  with  a  spray-bellows  has  proven  a 
good  remedy. 

Green  Fly,  or  Aphis.  This  is  a  tiny,  soft  green  creature, 
which  swarms  upon  the  tender  young  shoots  of  Roses, 
Coral  Honeysuckles,  and  many  other  plants,  sucking  up 
their  life  juices  and  spoiling  their  fair  promise.  I  read 
that  it  breathes  through  pores  in  its  sides,  so  ordinary 
strangling  is  of  no  avail  against  it,  and  to  kill  it  one  must 
stop  up  those  pores.  Tobacco  dust  is  said  to  accom- 
plish this  mission,  but  after  all,  what  can  one  hope  to  do 
against  a  creature  that  in  five  generations  is  not  only 
able,  but  willing,  to  become  the  progenitor  of  five 


TROUBLE  265 

thousand  million  descendants.  In  Dean  Hole's  "Book 
About  Roses"  the  following  interesting  facts  concerning 
the  aphis  are  quoted: 

"Insects  in  general  come  from  an  egg;  then  turn  to  a 
caterpillar,  which  does  nothing  but  eat;  then  to  a  chrys- 
alis, which  does  nothing  but  sleep;  then  to  a  perfect 
butterfly  which  does  nothing  but  increase  its  kind.  But 
the  aphis  proceeds  altogether  on  a  different  system. 
The  young  ones  are  born  exactly  like  the  old  ones  but 
less.  They  stick  their  beak  through  the  rind  and  begin 
drawing  up  sap  when  only  a  day  old  and  go  on  quietly 
sucking  for  seven  or  eight  days;  and  then,  without  love, 
courtship,  or  matrimony,  each  individual  begins  bring- 
ing forth  young  ones  and  continues  to  do  so  for  months, 
at  the  rate  of  from  twelve  to  eighteen  daily."  Tobacco 
seems  a  slight  thing  to  pit  against  such  determined 
fecundity. 

Rose  Beetle.  A  detestable  creature  with  the  mislead- 
ing appearance  of  a  firefly.  It  comes  in  swarms  when 
the  lovely  Rose  buds  are  at  the  point  of  unfolding,  and 
tears  and  devours  until,  instead  of  the  fair  blossoming  of 
our  dreams,  there  remains  only  a  mangled,  agonized 
frame.  It  seems  agreed  that  there  is  no  hope  against 
this  plague  save  hand  picking — a  loathsome  task,  and 
we  are  not  apt  to  remember  in  our  rage  that  the  rose 
beetle,  like  Shakespeare's  "poor  beetle," 

"In  corporal  sufferance  finds  a  pang  as  great 
As  when  a  giant  dies." 


266  MY  GARDEN 

Leaf  Roller.  A  caterpillar  especially  destructive  to 
Rose  bushes.  He  is  the  larvae  of  a  moth  or  butterfly,  and 
there  are  several  varieties  of  him,  some  brownish,  some 
yellow,  and  some  greenish,  but  all  with  the  luxurious 
habit  of  rolling  themselves  comfortably  in  a  fresh  green 
leaf.  He  must  be  picked  off  and  put  an  end  to,  for  he  is 
hatching  less  innocent  things  than  plans. 

Mildew  is  a  disease  of  plants  which  may  be  compared 
to  a  heavy  cold  in  ourselves  and  is  usually  caused  by 
sudden  atmospheric  changes,  or  long  continued  damp 
weather.  Some  plants  are  much  more  prone  to  this 
trouble  than  others.  It  shows  in  white  splotches  upon 
the  leaves.  Spraying  with  Bordeaux  mixture  is  very 
good  if  done  in  the  early  stages,  or  powdered  sulphur 
upon  the  leafage  and  upon  the  earth  around  the  plants. 

Rust9  which  occurs  in  yellow  spots  on  Rose  leaves, 
may  be  checked  by  spraying  with  Bordeaux. 

Black  spot  appears  on  full-grown  Rose  leaves  in  small 
black  spots  which  quickly  spread  to  cover  nearly  the 
whole  leaf.  Pick  off  and  burn  the  diseased  leaves  and 
spray  the  rest  of  the  plant  with  Bordeaux. 

Various  Rose  afflictions  may  be  held  in  check  by 
several  thorough  sprinklings  with  powdered  hellebore 
in  early  spring,  the  first  given  before  the  leaves  un- 
fold. 

It  is  a  good  plan  to  spray  the  flowering  fruit  trees  in 
the  garden  in  early  spring  with  a  weak  solution  of  Bor- 
deaux; also  the  Hawthorns  and  Pyrus  Japonica. 


TROUBLE  267 

ANIMALS 

We  have  had  little  trouble  from  animals  in  our  gar- 
den. Our  own  dogs,  while  enjoying  the  sun-bathed 
paths  as  napping  places  and  occasionally  choosing  a 
cushiony  mat  of  Cerastium,  are  on  the  whole  very  well 
behaved,  usually  following  the  paths  quite  decorously 
instead  of  taking  short  cuts  across  the  beds.  A  chip- 
munk has  kept  bachelor  hall  in  the  garden  for  several 
years  without  doing  the  least  harm  to  our  tender  young 
shoots,  and  we  are  very  fond  of  him.  More  than  one 
soft  gray  "cotton-tail"  comes  and  goes  among  our 
treasures  unrebuked,  because  he  merits  none,  though  the 
dogs  entertain  opinions  which  make  them  restive  under 
our  mandate  that  bunny  "belongs"  and  shall  be  let 
alone,  and  I  suspect  the  look-of-a-gun  in  Jonas'  eye. 

Cats  do  harm  in  the  garden  by  interfering  with  the 
birds,  so  they  are  not  allowed. 

Moles  do  much  harm  if  they  elect  to  make  your  gar- 
den the  scene  of  their  wanderings.  A  good  trap  is  the 
best  means  of  getting  rid  of  them,  and  the  directions  for 
use  will  come  with  it.  Sometimes  in  the  early  morning 
we  can  see  friend  mole  at  work,  heaving  the  ground  as  he 
goes  along,  and  he  then  may  be  dug  out  and  disposed  of, 
poor  little  soft  thing !  But,  if  we  do  not  get  him,  we  may 
remember  that  all  his  ways  are  not  evil,  for  he  is  fond  of 
grubs  and  wire  worms  and  eats  many  of  them,  so  at 
least  he  is  trying  to  pay  his  way. 


268  MY  GARDEN 

In  rural  France  the  government  erects  signs  inform- 
ing the  people  of  the  good  or  bad  characteristics  of 
various  animals  and  insects,  that  they  may  not,  through 
ignorance,  take  the  life  of  any  which  is  a  help  to  the 
farmer  and  horticulturist.  The  request  to  protect  the 
birds  is  made,  as  it  should  be  everywhere,  as  by  devour- 
ing countless  insects  they  are  doing  the  country  an  in- 
estimable service.  It  is  a  delight  to  encourage  and  pro- 
tect them  in  the  flower  garden,  for  they  are  gay  com- 
pany and  work  hard  for  their  board  and  lodging.  We 
do  all  we  can  to  make  the  garden  irresistible  to  them: 
there  are  enticing  baths  of  nicely  graduated  depth,  there 
are  tempting  trees  and  thickets  of  vines,  and  there  are 
the  overhanging  eaves  of  the  garden-house.  Food  is 
provided  at  all  seasons,  and  freedom  from  cats  and  guns 
assured,  and  the  small  people  who  play  in  the  garden 
would  no  more  touch  a  nest,  or  cause  anxiety  to  a 
brooding  mother,  than  they  would  rob  a  bank. 

Toads,  too,  should  be  encouraged  in  the  garden,  for 
they  have  hearty  appetites  and  devour  countless  insects, 
and  they  do  no  harm  to  plants.  We  have  entertained 
for  several  years  the  fattest  and  solemnest  toad  I  ever 
saw.  Every  spring,  early  in  May,  he  appears  from  the 
same  corner  of  the  garden,  a  trifle  depleted  after  his 
winter  sleep,  but  soon  to  be  his  corpulent  self  again,  for 
he  loses  no  time  in  getting  to  work  on  the  fat  insect  fare 
which  he  loves. 

The  little  red  insect  we  call  the  Ladybug  devours 


TROUBLE  269 

plant  lice  and  never  does  the  least  harm  to  any  plant; 
indeed,  if  it  were  not  for  the  Lady  bug  and  the  larvae  of 
the  Syrphus  fly  plant  lice  would  very  soon  increase  be- 
yond control.  Many  other  animals  are  our  friends  in 
devouring  insects,  caterpillars,  and  mice;  the  black 
snake,  the  hedgehog,  and  the  skunk  are  some,  which, 
with  this  knowledge,  we  may  think  of  more  kindly.  The 
work  of  bees  and  butterflies  in  receiving  and  distributing 
pollen  is  well  known,  and  luckily  these  need  no  extra 
encouragement,  for  where  there  are  flowers  and  sunshine 
there  will  be  these  happy  denizens  of  the  air. 

"The  pedigree  of  honey 
Does  not  concern  the  bee; 
A  clover,  any  time,  to  him 
Is  aristocracy." 


CHAPTER  SEVENTEEN 

PLANTS   FOR   SPECIAL    SITUATIONS 

"All  is  fine  that  is  fit." 

— Old  Proverb. 

ONE  of  the  most  essential  points  in  successful 
gardening  is  that  the  plants  employed  should 
be  well  suited  to  the  soil  and  situation,  for 
however  well  the  garden  is  conceived  and  carried  out  we 
get  but  a  sorry  effect  unless  there  is  a  wholesome  lux- 
uriance of  growth  and  an  appearance  of  permanence  and 
peace.  Besides,  it  is  cruel  to  require  a  plant  to  struggle 
for  existence  in  an  environment  totally  unsuited  to  it 
when  there  are  others  which  will  do  the  work  far  better 
because  they  are  at  peace  with  the  surroundings.  One 
has  but  to  observe  nature  to  realize  that  for  every  situa- 
tion, however  unlikely  or  uncompromising,  there  is  some 
green  thing  which  will  find  in  it  a  congenial  home  and 
will  gratefully  clothe  its  barren  surface  with  bloom  and 
verdure.  Constantly  in  garden  making  we  are  con- 
fronted with  conditions  under  which  most  of  the  well- 
known  hardy  herbaceous  perennials  and  gay  annuals 
may  not  thrive,  and  it  often  requires  much  expense  and 
experiment  before  the  right  plants  are  found.  The  fol- 
lowing notes  have  been  made  over  a  period  of  many 

270 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    271 

years  from  nature,  from  many  gardens  visited,  and  from 
constant  experimenting  in  my  own,  and  while  they  do 
not  pretend  to  be  exhaustive  by  any  means,  may  be  of 
some  assistance  to  those  whose  horticultural  enigmas 
are  similar  to  my  own. 

The  problems  chosen  are  those  which  seem  to  me  most 
often  met  with. 

THE   PROBLEM   OF   SHADE 

Many  times  I  have  heard  people  say:  "We  cannot 
have  a  garden;  our  place  is  too  shady."  Now  this  is  not 
at  all  true,  for,  while  to  many  of  us  the  word  "garden" 
signifies  a  sunny  space,  gay  and  sweet  with  Roses,  Pinks, 
Poppies,  Sunflowers,  and  brilliant  annuals,  to  which 
shade  is  a  serious  menace,  one  may  still  have  a  garden 
of  great  beauty,  charm,  and  fragrance  beneath  the 
spreading  boughs  of  trees. 

One  point  the  owner  of  the  shaded  gardens  must  keep 
in  mind — that  the  roots  of  trees  rob  the  soil  of  both  food 
and  drink,  and  so  nourishment  in  extra  quantity  must 
be  given  the  plants,  and  water  also,  for  a  shaded  situa- 
tion does  not  by  any  means  imply  a  damp  one. 

I  know  of  no  annuals  that  do  really  well  in  shade,  and 
there  are  not  so  many  highly  coloured  flowers,  but  one 
will  have  instead  a  softly  charming  harmony.  All  the 
lavender,  purple,  and  blue  tones  assume  an  especial 
quality  of  tender  loveliness  in  shadowy  places,  and 
white  is  much  purer  than  in  full  sunshine. 


MY  GARDEN 

By  a  shaded  garden  we  of  course  do  not  mean  one 
which  is  so  densely  shadowed  as  never  to  be  reached  by 
the  sun.  Few  plants  would  thrive  under  such  condi- 
tions. Beds  of  ferns  make  a  delightful  setting  for  the 
many  spring  bulbs  possible  in  the  shaded  garden. 
Plants  marked  *  will  stand  only  light  shade. 


Asters  (hardy) 
Aconitum,  in  var. 
Anemone  japonica 

sylvestris 
*      "        Pulsatilla 

nemorosa 

Hepatica 
Asperula  odorata 

hexaphylla 
Arenaria  balearica 
Aquilegia,  in  var. 
Campanula,  in  var. 
Cimicifuga,  in  var. 
Corydalis  lutea 

noUlis 
Chionodoxa 
Dicentra  spectabilis 

eximia 

Dicentra  Cucullaria 
Digitalis  purpurea 

grandiflora 
Doronicum,  in  var. 
Daffodils,  in  var. 
Funkias      "     " 
Fern  "     " 

Fritillaria  "  " 
Galanthus"  " 
*Geranium  Ibericum 


Monkshood 
Japanese  Anemone 
Wood 

Pasque  Flower 
Snowdrop  Anemone 
Liver  Leaf 
Sweet  Woodruff 

Mountain  Sandwort 
Columbine 
Bellflower 
Snakeroot 
Fumatory 
Noble  Fumatory 
Glory  of  the  Snow 
Bleeding  Heart 

Dutchman's  Breeches 
Foxglove 
Yellow  Glove 
Leopard's-bane 

Day  Lily 

Fritillary 
Snowdrop 


PLANTS  FOB,  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    273 


Geranium  sanguineum 

Helleborus  niger 

Iris  foetidissima 

Iberis  sempervirens 

Lily-of-the-Valley 

Lilies,  in  var.  except  candidum 

Lythrum  Salicaria 

Linaria  Cymbalaria 

Lunaria  biennis 

Meconopsis  cambrica 

Myosotis,  in  var. 

Mitella  diphylla 

Narcissus,  in  var. 

Primroses,  in  var. 

Pansies,  in  var. 

Polemonium,  in  var. 

*Pseonies,  in  var. 

*Papaver  orientale 

*  "        nudicaule 
Polygonatum  biflorum 
Pulmonaria,  in  var. 
Phlox  divaricata 

*  "      tall  growing 
*Rudbeckia  speciosa 
Ruta  graveolens 
Spiraeas,  in  var. 
Scillas,      "     " 
Sanguinaria  canadensis 
Senecio,  in  var. 
Saxifrage  umbrosa 
Trilliums,  in  var. 
Thalictrums,  in  var. 
Tiarella  cordifolia 
Tradescantia  virginica 
Vincas,  in  var. 

Violets  and  Violas,  in  var. 
Winter  Aconites 


Wild  Geranium 
Christmas  Rose 
Foetid  Iris 
Candytuft 

and  marsh-dwellers 
Loosestrife 
Kennelworth  Ivy 
Honesty 

Welsh  Poppy  (protect) 
Forget-me-not 
Mitrewort 


Jacob's  Ladder 

Oriental  Poppy 
Iceland      " 
Solomon's  Seal 
Lungwort 
Canadian  Phlox 

Coneflower 
Rue 

Squills 

Bloodroot 

Groundsel 

London  Pride  (protect) 

Wakerobin 

Meadow  Rue 

Foam  Flower 

Spiderwort 

Perriwinkle 


274  MY  GARDEN 

WHERE   GRASS   WILL   NOT  GROW   BENEATH   TREES 

Oak,  Ash,  Birch,  and  Horsechestnut  trees,  the  roots 
of  which  go  deep  into  the  earth,  are  less  a  tax  upon  the 
upper  soil  than  such  as  Maples,  Elms,  Beeches,  and 
Sycamores,  whose  roots  prowl  along  the  surface.  The 
ground  beneath  Pines  is  particularly  hard  to  clothe,  but 
it  is  said  that  the  indomitable  little  Periwinkle  can  find 
a  living  even  here. 

For  carpeting  the  ground  when  grass  has  given  up  the 
attempt  to  spread  its  green  carpet,  we  should  be  grateful 
to  the  following  plants : 

Vinca  minor  Periwinkle 

Hypericum  calycinum  St.  John'swort 

Pachysandra  terminalis  Allegheny  Mountain  Spurge 

Ajuga  reptans  Bugleweed 

Lysimachia  Nummularia  Moneywort 

Lamium  maculatum  Dead  Nettle 

Hedera  Helix  Ivy 

Aegopodium  Podagraria  Goutweed 

Scillas,  in  var.  Squills 

Many  of  these  small  subjects  have  variegated  varie- 
ties (especially  the  Goutweed)  which  are  very  useful  in 
lighting  up  shadowy  corners.  It  must  be  borne  in  mind 
that  plants  set  out  in  such  an  uncompromising  situation 
must  be  well  looked  after  and  watered  until  well  estab- 
lished. 

SHRUBS  AND  VINES  FOR  SHADED  GARDENS 

Aciinidia  polygama  Barberries,  in  var. 

Akebia  quinata  Symphoricarpus  racemosus 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS   275 

Virginia  Creeper  Rhus  cotinus 

Honeysuckles,  in  var.  Euonymus  Japonicus 

Clematis  large  flowered  (partial  Forsythia 

shade) 

Clematis  virginiana  Philadelphia  coronarius 

Tecoma  radicans  Daphne  Mezereum 

Euonymus  radicans  Andromeda  floribunda 

Ivy — English  Box 

Celastrus  scandens  Rhododendrons,  in  var. 

Cornus  florida  Azaleas,  in  var. 

Cersis  canadensis  Amelanchier  canadensis 

Laburnum  vulgare  Kalmia  angustifolia 

Ribes  aureum  and  sanguineum  Hypericum  Moserianum  (protect) 

Lonicera  fragrantissima  Ligustrum  Japonicum 

Berberis  aquifolium 

PLANTING   THE   LOW  DRY  BANK 

If  such  banks  occur  in  parts  of  the  place  where  it  is 
desired  that  great  neatness  prevail,  they  are  best  sodded 
and  kept  in  order  with  the  rest  of  the  lawn,  but  if  in 
more  informal  localities  where  grass  grows  upon  them 
only  in  untidy  whisps,  a  charming  feature  may  be  made 
of  such  a  bank  by  the  employment  of  some  of  the  creep- 
ing plants,  which  will  easily  find  a  footing  upon  its 
sloping  surface  and  finally  form  a  sort  of  turf. 

They  will,  of  course,  need  care  and  water  until  thor- 
oughly established,  and  the  bank  must  be  kept  free 
from  weeds  until  the  little  plants  have  fairly  covered  the 
surface. 

The  plants  may  be  set  out  about  a  foot  apart  each 
way,  and  will  soon  cover  the  space  between.  All  the 
plants  listed  are  easily  raised  from  seed,  so  the  large 


276  MY  GARDEN 

number  required  may  be  acquired  at  little  expense. 
Some  of  them  also  seed  themselves  freely,  those  marked 
*  are  especially  prolific.  All  are  trailers  save  the  Sea 
Pink  and  the  Maiden  Pink,  which  latter,  I  think,  might 
be  termed  a  semi-trailer. 

Thymus  serpyllum,  in  var.  .      .  v .     .     .      .  Wild  Thyme 

*Dianthus  deltoides .      .      .    -V    .     ,.    *  "  .  Maiden  Pink 

Armeria  Maritima Sea  Pink  or  Thrift 

Crucinella  Stylosa Crosswort 

*Callirhoe  involucrata          Poppy  Mallow 

Lotus  corniculatus Bird  's-f oot  Trefoil 

Armeria  latif olia Thrift 

Ajuga  reptens  Bugle  weed 

THE   CLAY   BANK 

The  clay  bank  presents  greater  difficulty,  as  this  soil 
by  reason  of  its  density  shuts  the  plants  off  from  their 
proper  share  of  air,  besides,  owing  to  the  slope  and  the 
frequently  baked  condition  of  the  top  soil,  much  of  the 
surface  water  runs  off  before  the  thirsty  roots  have  an 
opportunity  to  enjoy  it.  It  is  easy  to  see  that  many 
plants  would  fail  under  such  trying  conditions,  but 
much  may  be  done  by  choosing  only  such  plants  as  are 
able  to  meet  the  situation  with  equanimity.  If  the  slope 
is  a  long  one  trees  and  shrubs  may  be  employed,  and  of 
those  perhaps  Elms,  Norway  Maples,  and  Oaks  are  the 
best.  The  American  Thorns,  Crataegus,  may  also  be 
used  and: 

Robinia  hispida  Rose  Acacia 

scoparius  Scotch  Broom 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    277 


Common  Privet 
Euonymous  atropurpurea 
Sumachs,  in  var. 
Pyrus  aucuparia 
Crataegus  Crus-galli 

mollis 
Viburnum  acerifolium 

dentatum 
Rosa  rugosa 

Symphoricarpus  racemosus 
Rosa  canina 

Wichuraina,  in  var. 
Weigela 

Honeysuckle,  in  var. 
Tecoma  radicans 
Clematis  virginica 

vitalba 

Artemisias,  in  var. 
Achilleas     "     " 
Sea  Hollies"     " 
Globe  Thistles,  in  var. 
Verbascums,  in  var. 
Aster  Novae  Anglise,  in  var. 
Polygonum  cuspidatum 
compactum 


Wahoo 

Bird  Cherry 
Cockspur  Thorn 

Maple-leaved  Viburnum 

Arrow  Wood 

Japanese  Rose 

Snowberry 

Dog  Rose 

Japanese  Trailing  Rose 


Trumpet  Vine 
Traveller's  Joy 
Virgin's  Bower 

Yarrow 
Mullein 

Michaelmas  Daisy 
Knotweed 


Such  a  bank  is  best  planted  in  the  fall  and  the  plants 
kept  well  watered  in  dry  weather.  Young  plants  are 
best  employed,  as  these  are  more  vigorous  and  establish 
themselves  more  quickly,  and  broad,  natural-looking 
groups  of  the  kinds  used  are  most  effective. 

THE   WILD    GARDEN 

Many  plants  by  reason  of  their  sophisticated  and 
finished  appearance  are  unsuitable  for  naturalizing 


278  MY  GARDEN 

in  half  wild  and  waste  places.  Hollyhocks,  Paeonies, 
Phlox,  save  the  old  purple,  Delphiniums,  Chrysanthe- 
mums, Moonpenny  Daisies,  and  Veronicas  seem  par- 
ticularly to  belong  to  the  tidy  garden;  and  new  or  rare 
plants  should  not  be  planted  in  such  a  situation.  The 
most  suitable  are  those  which  are  native  to  the  neigh- 
bourhood, or  which  are  so  little  fussy  about  soil  and 
situation  and  so  hardy  that  they  in  a  large  measure  re- 
produce themselves,  so  that  in  time  there  will  be  really 
natural  thickets  and  stretches  planted  without  our 
agency. 

The  following  list  includes  such  plants  as  seem  to  me 
particularly  appropriate  for  naturalizing: 

HERBACEOUS 

Achilleas,  in  var.  Yarrow 

Rudbeckias,  in  var.  Coneflower 

Lupinus  Common  blue  and  white 

Hemerocallis,  in  var.  Yellow  Day  Lily 

Doronicums,  in  var.  Leopard's  Bane 

Campanula  trachelium  Throatwort 

rapunculus  Rampion 

lactiflora  Bellflower 
latifolia 

Camassia  esculenta  Quamash 

Phlox  divaricata  Canadian  Phlox 

subulata  Creeping  Phlox    (rocky 

places) 

old  purple  Canadian  Creeping 

Saponaria  officinalis  Bouncing  Bet 

Hesperis  matronalis  Sweet  Rocket 

Helianthus,  in  var.  Sunflowers 

Solidago        "    "  Goldenrod 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    279 

Aster  Hardy  Asters,  in  var. 

Verbascums,  in  var.  Mullein 

Cimicifuga    "     "  Snakeroot 
Columbine     "     " 

Echinops       "     "  Globe  thistles 

Eryngiums    "     "  Sea  Holly 

Lunaria  biennis  Honesty 

Tussilago  fragrans  Coltsfoot 

Boconia  cordata  Plume  Poppy 

Epilobium  angustifolium  Willow  herb 

Geraniums,  in  var.  Crane's  Bill 

Liatris  pycnostachya  Kansas  Gayfeather 

Lythrum  Salicaria  Purple  loosestrife 

Hieracium,  in  var.  Hawkweed 

Anemones    "    "  Windflower 

Digitalis  purpurea  Foxglove 

Primroses  Common 
Roses — Wild,  or  others  of  Rampant  growth. 

Lilium  tigrinum  Tiger  Lily 

"      Canadense  Nodding  Lily 

"      superbum  Turk's  Cap  Lily 

"      philadelphicum  Huckleberry  Lily 

Baptisia  australis  False  Indigo 

tinctoria  Yellow     " 
Any  plants  native  to  neighbourhood 

BULBS 

Narcissus  incomparabilis,  in  var. 

"       Leedsii  "    " 

"       poeticus  "    " 

Muscari — Grape  Hyacinth,  in  var. 
Crocus,  in  var. 
Star  of  Bethlehem,  in  var. 
Fritillaria  Meleagris,  Snakeshead  Fritillary 

var.  alba. 

Scillas,  in  var.,  Blue  bells  or  Squills 
Eythroniums,  in  var.,  Dog's  tooth  Violet 


280  MY  GARDEN 

ANNUALS 

English  Field  Poppy 

Borage  cfficinalis,  Borage 

Argemone  Mexicana,  Mexican  Poppy 

Corn  Flowers 

Toadflax 

Sunflowers 

Nicotiana 

PLANTS   FOB   DAMP   SITUATIONS 

Marsh  and  water  gardening  is  best  carried  out  upon 
rather  a  broad  scale — that  is,  good  stretches  of  one  sort 
of  plant,  of  course  regulated  by  the  size  of  one's  avail- 
able space.  A  large  majority  of  marsh  plants  are  ram- 
pant "doers"  and  prosper  at  such  a  rate  that  they 
quickly  crowd  out  their  lesser  brethren  unless  steps  are 
taken  to  protect  them.  And  so  if  the  space  to  be 
planted  is  of  no  great  size,  these  enthusiastic  colonizers 
should  be  omitted  and  choice  made  among  the  more 
conservative  stay-at-homes.  If,  however,  one  has  a 
fairly  broad  marsh  or  extensive  waterside  at  one's  dis- 
posal one  may  use  these  larger  subjects  with  fine  effect, 
and  with  them  the  moisture-loving  trees  and  shrubs. 
Most  of  the  marsh  plants  need  little  care  when  once 
established,  spreading  or  seeding  generously,  and  for 
this  I  am  devoutly  thankful,  for  I  cannot  love  the 
marsh  and  its  handsome  tenantry  as  dearly  as  the  land- 
lubbers among  my  plants.  Whether  it  is  that  pottering 
about  among  them  is  neither  very  practical  nor  agree- 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    281 

able,  or  whether  it  is  an  instinctive  aversion  to  all  bog 
life,  animal  or  vegetable,  a  dislike  of  wet  feet  and  oozy 
places  and  a  mortal  fear  of  snakes,  I  do  not  know,  but 
verily  am  I  glad  that  the  marsh  folk  are  able  to  shift  for 
themselves  in  a  great  degree. 

It  is  necessary  to  pay  some  attention  to  the  marsh 
colour  scheme,  for  many  of  its  inhabitants  are  highly 
coloured  and  many  wear  the  beautiful  but  warring  hue 
known  to  fame  as  "rosy  magenta."  Luckily,  however, 
there  are  a  fair  number  of  fluffy  white  flowers  to  inter- 
vene between  these  and  the  vibrant  swamp  Lilies  and 
gay  scarlet  Cardinal  Flower,  and  only  a  little  care  is 
needed  when  planting  is  done  in  this  "broad  natural 
manner."  We  excuse  Nature  of  much  for  which  we 
would  condemn  the  gardener. 

In  laying  out  a  path  along  a  stream  side  the  planting 
should  be  largely  done  on  the  opposite  bank,  as  this 
gives  us  the  opportunity  of  enjoying  a  better  view. 

In  planting  around  a  formal  pool  in  the  flower  garden 
the  choice  is  best  limited  to  plants  of  a  tidy  and  rather 
severe  character,  and  for  this  purpose  nothing  is  better 
than  the  many  water-loving  Irises  and  the  broad- 
leaved  Funkias,  with  perhaps  a  few  feathery  Spiraeas 
interspersed. 

PLANTS  FOB  MARSH   AND   STREAM   SIDE 

Alnus  viridis  Green  Alder 

Azalea  nudiflora  Pixter  Flower 

Azalea  viscosa  Swamp  Honeysuckle 

Benzoin  benzoin  Spice  Bush 


282 


MY  GARDEN 


Betula  nigra 

Cephalanihus  occidentalis 
Clethra  alnifolia 
Cornus  Stolonifera 

"      alba 

"      paniculata  (candidissima) 

"      Amomum 
Halesia  tetraptera 
Hamamelis  virginica 
Ilex  verticillata 
Itea  virginica 
Nyssa  sylvatica 
Populus 
Quercus  bicolor 
Rosa  nitida 

"     Carolina 
Salix  alba 

"     discolor 

"     Vitellini 
Spiraea  salicifolia 

"    tomentosa 


Black  Birch 
Button  Bush 
Sweet  Pepper 
Red  Osier 

White-fruited  Dogwood 
Panicled  Dogwood 
Swamp  Dogwood 
Snowdrop  Tree 
Witch  Hazel 
Black  Alder 
Virginia  Willow 
Sour  Gum 
Poplar 

Swamp  White  Oak 
Northeastern  Rose 
Swamp  Rose 
White  Willow 
Pussy 
Yellow     " 
Meadow  Sweet 
Steeple  Bush 


PLANTS  FOB  DAMP  SITUATIONS 


Acorus  Calamus 
Althcea  officinalis 
Arundo  donax 
Astilbe,  in  var. 
Caltha  palustris 
Dodecatheon  media 
Epilobiums,  in  var. 
Eupatorium  purpureum 
Ferns,  in  var. 
Fritillaria  alba 
Funkias,  in  var. 
Goodyera  repens 
Hemerocallis,  in  var. 


Lobelia  syphUitica 
Lysimachia  vulgaris 
Lythrum  Salicaria 
Mertensia  virginica 
Mitchella  repens  (creeping) 
Monarda  didyma 
Myosotis  palustris 
Narcissus  John  Bain 
Sir  Watkin 

"       P.  R.  Barr 
Beauty 

"       Stella  Superba 

"       Emperor 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    283 

Heracleum  giganteum  Narcissus  poeticus 
Iris  siberica,  in  var.  albus  plenus  odorata 

"    aurea  Pamassia  palustris 

monspur  Peltandra  virginica 

"    versicolor  Physostegia  virginica 

"    Kaempferi  Pontederia  cor  data 

"    pseudacorus  Ranunculus,  in  var. 

"    Monnieri  Sagittaria  variabilis 
"    Delayayi  "  "      fl.pl. 

"    ochroleuca  (syn.  orientalis  gigantea) 

Lilium  pardilinum  Senecio,  in  var. 

"      superbum  Spiraeas,  in  var. 

"      canadense  Spigelia  marylandica 

Lobelia  cardinalis  Trollius,  in  var. 

Typha  latifolia 

WALL   GARDENING 

Wall  gardening  has  become  one  of  the  arts  and  it  is  not 
possible  to  enter  into  so  large  a  subject  in  so  small  a 
space,  but  for  those  who  have  already  a  dry  retaining 
wall  or  two  in  their  gardens  the  few  plants  here  given, 
which  are  so  easily  established  and  grow  so  readily  in 
such  a  position,  may  be  of  use.  If  the  wall  is  an  old  one 
there  will  probably  be  soil  enough  in  the  crevices  to  con- 
tent those  plants,  but  if  fairly  new,  soil  must  be  rammed 
firmly  back  into  the  crack  which  we  intend  to  plant.  If 
one  has  a  wall  to  build  and  wishes  to  make  of  it  a  really 
successful  wall  garden,  it  is  advisable  to  procure  one  of 
the  many  fascinating  books  which  cover  the  subject. 
Of  those  Miss  JekylPs  "Wall  and  Water  Gardens,"  and 
H.  H.  Thomas'  "Rock  Gardening  for  Amateurs"  will  be 
found  most  helpful. 


284  MY  GARDEN 

Seed  may  be  rammed  into  the  soil  between  the  stones, 
or  very  small  seedlings,  or  tiny  bits  of  plants  with  a  good 
root.  Large  plants  are  not  advisable,  as  they  seldom 
"take  hold"  in  those  narrow  quarters. 

PLANTS   FOB   DRY  RETAINING   WALLS 

Nepeta  Mussini  Santolina  incana 

Corydalis  lutea  Campanula  carpatica 

Lavender,  Munstead  Dwarf  Cerastium  tomentosum 

Sedum,  in  var.  Helianthemum,  in  var. 

Sempervivum,  in  var.  Thymus  vulgaris 

Aubrietia,  in  var.  Satureia  montana 

Alyssum  saxatile  Phlox  subulatay  in  var. 

Arabis  alpina  Achillea,  tomentosa 

Dianthus,  in  var.  Centranihus  rubra 

Linum  perenne  Antirrhinum  (snapdragon) 

Iberis  sempervirens  Veronica  repens 
Tunica  Saxifraga  prostrata 

Gypsophila  repens 

PAVED   WALKS 

There  is  much  to  be  said  in  favour  of  paved  walks  and 
terraces.  In  small,  enclosed  formal  gardens  flagstone 
walks  give  a  very  quaint,  old-world  air,  and  they  are  a 
charming  adjunct  to  houses  of  the  Pennsylvania  Colo- 
nial type,  or  to  more  pretentious  dwellings  built  after  the 
Elizabethan  style.  They  are  permanent  and  easy  to 
maintain,  always  dry,  and  admit  of  a  very  interesting 
type  of  gardening.  The  stones,  which,  of  course,  must 
be  flat,  may  be  irregular  or  regular  as  to  shape,  and  if 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    285 

irregular  as  to  shape  may  be  of  various  sizes,  but  small 
stones,  of  course,  are  not  suitable.  The  soil  beneath  the 
stones  should  be  a  good  sandy  loam  to  the  depth  of 
several  inches,  and  the  cracks  between  the  stones  will 
serve  as  a  lodging  place  for  many  a  charming  creeping  or 
tufted  thing. 

One  must,  however,  use  restraint  in  this  sort  of  gar- 
dening and  keep  in  mind  the  fact  that  the  path  is  first  of 
all  designed  for  the  pedestrian,  and  one  does  not  wish  to 
have  one's  feelings  harrowed  at  every  step  by  crushing 
some  helpless  green  thing  beneath  one's  heel.  We  do 
not  mind  picking  our  way  a  bit,  though,  and  if  this 
diminutive  tenantry  is  kept  a  bit  to  one  side  they  are  in 
no  great  danger.  Some  of  the  small  plants  seem  quite 
indifferent  to  being  trod  upon.  Thyme  is  one  of  these 
and  sends  up  clouds  of  welcoming  perfume  behind  our 
lagging  footsteps.  Only  the  most  diminutive  subjects 
are  suitable  for  the  centre  of  the  path,  but  along  the 
sides,  if  the  path  be  wide  enough,  some  of  the  larger 
alpines  may  have  a  place.  In  planting,  seedlings  or 
very  small  bits  of  plants  should  be  used,  or  seeds  may  be 
inserted  between  the  cracks.  A  narrow  wooden  plant- 
label  is  a  useful  tool  in  setting  out  the  tiny  plants,  for 
any  real  tool  known  to  me  is  far  too  large. 

One  must  have  the  eye  of  a  lynx  for  weeds  in  the 
paved  path  and  slaughter  them  in  infancy,  for  once  well 
rooted  beneath  the  stones  it  is  a  terrible  task  to  get 
them  out.  Except  for  this  the  path  will  require  little 


286  MY  GARDEN 

attention,  for  once  settled  the  small  plants  have  at  their 
disposal  the  moisture  beneath  the  stones,  good  food, 
and  a  cool  root-run,  which  insures  them  peace  and  com- 
fort. Many  of  them  will  self-sow,  and  perhaps  after 
a  while  the  path  will  become  overcrowded,  but  they  will 
make  prettier  groups  of  themselves  than  we  can  possibly 
devise,  and  thinning  them  out  occasionally  is  not  a  very 
difficult  matter. 

SMALL   PLANTS  FOB   CENTRE  JOINTS 

Acaena  microphylla  Draba  aizoides 

Erinus  alpinus  Thymus  lanuginosus 

Arenaria  balearica  (shade)  "       Serpyllum,  in  var. 

Antennaria  tomentosa  Linaria  hepaticcefolia 

Campanula  pusilla  "       Cymbalaria 

Mentha  Requieni 

ALPINES  FOR  OUTER  EDGES  OF  PATH 

Dianthus  caesius  Tunica  saxifraga 

"         deltoides  Arabis  alpina  fl.  pi. 

"         arenarius  Arenaria  montana 

Aubrietia,  in  var.  Gypsophila  repens 

Armeria  maritima  Hypericum  repens 

Veronica  repens  Phlox  subulata  G.  F.  Wilson 
Papaver  alpinum  Nelsoni 

Silene  alpestris  Campanula  carpatica 
"      Schafla  "  rotundifolia 

Linaria  alpina 
\ 

ANNUALS 

Sedum  coeruleum  lonopsidium  acaule 

Gypsophila  muralis 


PLANTS  FOR  SPECIAL  SITUATIONS    £87 


GRAY-LEAVED   PLANTS 

The  charm  and  usefulness  of  plants  with  gray,  hoary, 
or  gray-blue  foliage  is  being  more  and  more  realized  and 
appreciated.  They  make  possible  many  a  soft  and  satis- 
fying harmony,  and  have  the  advantage  of  remaining  in 
good  condition  the  season  through.  In  the  late  autumn, 
when  most  of  our  flowers  have  been  driven  away  by 
sharp  frosts,  the  gray-foliaged  plants  assume  a  new  in- 
terest and  keep  the  garden  looking  "dressed"  until  win- 
ter has  fairly  closed  down  upon  us. 

PLANTS    OF  GRAY  OB   HOARY   FOLIAGE 

Antennaria  tomentosa 
Artemisia  Stelleriana 

abro  anum 

argentea 

Cerastium  tomentosum 
Pinks  in  variety 

Funkia  Sieboldiana  and  Fortunei 
Nepeta  Mussini 

Elymus  glaucus  (syn.  arenarius) 
Centaurea  candidissima,  Annual 

gymnocarpa,        " 
Cineraria  maritima,  " 

(Creeping  Dusty  Miller) 
Ruta  graveolens 
Santolina  incana 

chamoecyparissus 
Lavender — tall  and  dwarf 
Thymus  lanuginosus,  in  var.,  Creeping 
Alyssum  saxatUe  var.  compactum 
Veronica  incana 


288  MY  GARDEN 

Eryngium  maritimum 

Salvia  offidnalis 

Sedum  Sieboldii  Ewersii  and  spectabile 

Achillea  tomentosa 

Festuca  glauca 

Thalictrum  glaucum 

Stachys  lanato 


CHAPTER  EIGHTEEN 

THE   HERB    GARDEN 

Where  no  vain  flower  discloses  a  gaudy  streak 

But  herbs  for  use  and  physic  not  a  few 

Of  gray  renown,  within  these  borders  grew. 

— Shenstone. 

TO  ATTEMPT  to  put  the  herb  garden,  with  all 
its  charm,  its  fragrance,  its  folklore  and  tra- 
dition and  history,   its  possibilities  and  its 
proven  delights,  into  a  single  chapter,  is  to  attempt  the 
impossible.     Much  that  is  of  deep  interest  must  be 
omitted,  but  I  trust  to  have  enough  to  interest  others  in 
this  most  pleasant  and  suggestive  branch  of  the  gar- 
dener *s  art. 

When  the  old  farmhouse  which  is  now  our  home  came 
into  our  possession  we  found  hanging  from  the  roof  of 
the  low-browed,  dusky  attic  a  number  of  small  paper 
bags,  neatly  labelled  Hoarhound,  Caraway,  Catnip, 
Balm,  Sage,  Mint,  Motherwort,  Wormwood,  and  Mari- 
gold. When  opened,  we  found  them  to  contain  leaves, 
dry  almost  to  powder,  that  gave  off  most  interesting 
and  illusive  odours.  Later  we  found  that,  though  our 
neighbourhood  is  but  one  hour  from  New  York  City  and 
near  to  several  flourishing  villages,  the  old  custom  of 


290  MY  GARDEN 

domestic  medical  practice  by  means  of  plants  still  pre- 
vails, and  that  there  are  several  aged  women,  well  versed 
in  "the  physic  of  the  field,"  who  dose  their  families  and 
their  neighbours  with  strange  decoctions  of  "  dooryard 
grass,"  Tansy,  Catnip,  Coltsfoot,  Skunk  Cabbage,  Elder, 
and  others,  and  believe  unswervingly  in  the  efficacy  of 
the  ashwithe  for  the  bite  of  the  dread  rattlesnake. 

Those  little  paper  bags  whetted  my  interest  and 
curiosity,  and  I  determined  to  know  for  myself  those 
plants  so  bound  up  in  the  lives  of  our  forefathers  and  so 
glorified  by  centuries  of  homely  usefulness.  To  this 
end  I  began  collecting  all  I  could  find,  growing  them  in 
the  flower  garden  or  among  the  vegetables,  gaining 
knowledge  of  their  pleasant  ways  and  becoming  always 
more  imbued  with  their  quiet  charm,  until  the  time 
came  when  I  could  gather  them  together,  a  soft-hued, 
sweet-breathed  company,  into  a  garden  of  their  own. 

The  planning  of  the  herb  garden  was  a  matter  for 
much  thought  and  research.  We  had  seen  several,  only 
one  of  which  seemed  to  answer  the  requirements,  ideal 
as  well  as  practical.  This  was  at  the  great  gardens  of 
Friar  Park,  Henley-on-Thames,  the  pattern  and  plant- 
ing of  which  had  been  taken  from  a  figure  in  HylPs 
"Gardener's  Labyrinthe,"  1584,  and  had  been  most 
faithfully  carried  out.  It  was  made  up  of  many  small 
beds,  slightly  raised  and  enclosed  with  boards  firmly 
pegged  at  the  corners,  arranged  to  form  several  quaint 
patterns,  and  planted  in  the  isolated  manner — that  is, 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  291 

each  plant  well  separated  from  its  fellows — which  was 
common  in  that  day.  And  it  seems  to  me  very  pleasant 
and  fitting  to  recall  in  our  herb  gardens  of  to-day  those 
much  used  enclosures  of  long  ago,  for  I  feel  very  certain 
that  however  wild,  or  natural,  or  irregular  we  may  care 
to  be  hi  our  flower  gardens,  in  the  herb  garden  we  have 
no  precedent  for  being  aught  but  prim  and  tidy  and 
geometrical.  I  am  sure  that  even  in  our  great  grand- 
mothers' days  herbs  were  never  grown  in  wavy-lined 
borders  or  in  clumps  and  patches  just  anywhere;  they 
were  too  precious  for  this,  and  were  undoubtedly  set  out 
neatly  in  little  rectangular  beds  with  paths  between  that 
they  might  be  the  more  easily  cared  for  and  harvested. 

The  pattern  of  our  herb  garden  is  taken  from  a  figure 
in  John  Rea's  "Flora,  Ceres  et  Pomona,"  1676.  It  lies 
directly  behind  the  stone  garden  house  and  is  enclosed 
within  a  white  trellis  fence  against  which  is  a  hedge  of 
Damask  Roses.  Opposite  the  garden-house  door  it  ex- 
tends out  and  up  to  form  a  bay  or  arbour,  which  shel- 
ters a  comfortable  seat.  The  paths  between  the  beds 
are  of  brick,  the  joints  of  which  provide  a  home  for 
many  a  mat  of  fragrant  Thyme  or  Musk  spilled  over 
from  the  little  beds.  These  latter  are  raised  and  edged 
with  boards  after  the  manner  of  those  at  Friar  Park, 
and  are  filled  with  all  sorts  of  sweet  and  homely  things, 
arranged  with  some  attempt  at  comely  association. 

It  is  a  pleasant  spot.  Here  are  sober  tones  of  leaf 
and  flower,  soothing  and  invigorating  odours  and  the 


292  MY  GARDEN 

satisfied  hum  of  winged  insects,  and  the  charm  of  asso- 
ciation and  tradition  broods  over  all. 

All  sorts  of  people  enjoy  this  small  enclosure  and 
linger  over  its  softly  coloured  inhabitants  as  if  tempo- 
rarily under  the  spell  which  many  of  them  are  said  to 
cast.  Old  people  especially  enjoy  it;  here  they  find  old 
friends  nearly  forgotten,  plants  associated  with  their 
childhood  or  bound  up  with  some  tender  memory. 
Keen  housekeepers  and  epicures  find  much  here  to  their 
minds  and  palates;  physicians  are  interested  in  meeting 
their  henchmen,  Aconite,  Poppy ,  Valerian,  Digitalis,  and 
others  in  so  pleasant  a  guise,  and  once  the  English  coach- 
man of  a  friend  came  into  the  herb  garden  and  standing 
in  front  of  my  precious  Lavender  border  exclaimed  with 
great  feeling:  "Oh,  Mrs.  Wilder,  them  bushes  takes  me 
'ome!"  I  am  always  pleased  when  my  country  neigh- 
bours come  to  me  for  Wormwood  to  cure  the  "swellin" 
on  the  horse's  leg,  for  Tansy  or  for  any  other  of  the 
green  things  in  which  their  faith  is  large  and  my  garden 
well  supplied;  and  equally  am  I  pleased  when  I  can 
accommodate  my  city  friends  with  Tarragon  for  the 
vinegar  cruet,  or  with  Borage,  Basil,  and  others  to 
flavour  their  salads.  More  roots  and  seeds,  besides  the 
dried  products,  go  to  friends  from  this  part  of  the  garden 
than  from  all  the  rest  put  together,  and  I  love  to  send 
these  little  plant  evangelists  out  into  the  world  to  make 
friends  for  themselves  and  to  teach  others  the  pleasure 
and  the  good  to  be  found  in  that  "excellent  art  of 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  293 

simpling,"  which  old  John  Gerarde  says,  "hath  been  a 
study  for  the  wisest,  an  exercise  for  the  noblest,  a  pas- 
time for  the  best  .  .  .  the  subject  thereof  so  neces- 
sarie  and  delectable,  that  nothing  can  be  confected 
either  delicate  for  the  taste,  daintie  for  smell,  pleasant 
for  sight,  wholesome  for  body,  conservative  or  restora- 
tive for  health,  but  it  borroweth  the  relish  of  an  herbe, 
the  flavour  of  a  flower,  the  colour  of  a  leaf,  the  juice  of  a 
plant  or  the  decoration  of  a  roote  .  .  .  who  would 
therefore,  look  dangerously  up  at  Planets  that  might 
look  safely  down  at  plants."  And  the  answer,  who 
indeed? 

Before  setting  out  to  create  a  garden  of  herbs  it  is 
well  to  settle  in  one's  mind  just  what  an  herb  is,  or  at 
least  what  the  word  implies  to  one's  self.  There  have 
been  many  definitions  given  by  those  interested  in  the 
subject,  but  none  seem  to  me  quite  comprehensive.  It 
seems  generally  accepted  that  all  plants  with  aromatic 
foliage  are  rightly  herbs,  but  beyond  this  is  a  debatable 
land.  To  me,  a  plant  to  deserve  the  name  must  serve  a 
use,  other  than  a  decorative  one,  though  I  should  not 
want  all  useful  plants  in  my  collection.  Plants  used  in 
medicine,  for  salads,  for  flavouring,  and  even  those  said 
to  be  invested  with  magic  working  powers,  might 
properly  be  included,  but  if  one  seeks  a  list  of  those  in 
the  old  herbals,  it  will  be  of  such  length  that  no  garden 
could  hold  them,  and  if  it  could,  would  differ  little  from 
an  ordinary  flower  garden,  for  in  that  credulous  long 


294  MY  GARDEN 

ago  nearly  every  plant  was  used  for  meat,  for  magic,  or 
for  medicine.  It  is  rather  confusing,  but  when  one  is 
deeply  interested  a  sort  of  sense  of  what  is  fitting  devel- 
ops within  one,  and  of  course  there  is  no  reason  why  for 
each  of  us  the  herb  garden  should  not  have  a  special 
meaning  and  manifestation. 

For  myself,  I  have  decided  that  my  herbs  must  pos- 
sess beauty  in  some  form,  of  flower,  of  leaf,  or  of  scent, 
and  such  as  Docks,  Sowthistles,  Ragweed,  and  Plan- 
tains, be  they  ever  so  virtuous,  are  rigidly  excluded  from 
the  garden.  Such  plants  as  grow  freely  in  our  neigh- 
bourhood, as  several  sorts  of  Mints,  Yarrow,  Betony, 
Selfheal,  Boneset,  Catnip,  Agrimony,  the  Mustards, 
Pennyroyal,  and  Vervain,  are  also  debarred,  as  space  is  a 
consideration  and  I  like  to  have  fair-sized  patches  of 
each  kind  and  not  specimens  only.  Nearly  all  plants 
of  aromatic  foliage  are  included  and  such  garden 
flowers  as  are  of  important  medicinal  value;  such  of  the 
pot  and  salad  plants  as  are  good  to  smell  or  to  look  upon 
and  old-fashioned  Roses,  for  is  it  not  written  that  "the 
Rose  besides  its  beauty  is  a  cure?"  And  the  old  books 
teem  with  recipes  of  things  curative,  soothing,  or  cos- 
metic, which  may  be  made  from  the  petals  of  those 
Roses  of  other  days. 

Herbs  important  in  our  present-day  cooking,  which  it 
is  good  to  have  fresh,  are:  Chervil,  Chives,  Sweet  and 
Pot  Marjoram,  Sage,  Tarragon,  Parsley,  Mint,  the 
Savories,  Coriander,  Caraway,  Thyme,  Sweet  and  Bush 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  295 

Basil,  and  Anise — and  in  the  French  cook  books  many 
more  sorts  are  deemed  desirable. 

It  is  not  easy  to  procure  roots  or  seeds  of  a  great  many 
herbs,  for  the  nurserymen  and  seedsmen  carry  very  few 
as  a  rule.  French,  German,  and  English  catalogues  are 
better  stocked  with  them  than  ours,  as  the  plants  are 
more  in  use  in  those  countries.  However,  in  the  vege- 
table section  of  most  seedsmen's  catalogues  may  be 
found  a  fairly  generous  list  under  "Sweet,  Pot,  and 
Medicinal  Plants,"  and  a  few  roots  also.  And  then,  if 
we  are  really  interested,  roots  and  seeds  will  find  their 
way  to  us,  sometimes  through  friends,  often  through 
kindness  of  a  chance  visitor  to  the  garden,  or  from  some 
country  neighbour  who  knows  where  choice  things  grow. 
Frequently  we  may  cull  a  plant  from  some  old,  de- 
serted garden  and  find  another  which  has  thrown  off 
the  conventions  of  garden  life  and  is  thriving  in  the 
dust  and  questionable  company  of  the  open  roadside. 
"How  I  got  my  herbs"  would  make  a  chapter  in  itself, 
absorbing  to  me,  if  to  no  one  else. 

After  a  good  deal  of  experimenting  I  have  come  to 
the  conclusion  that  a  poor,  gravelly  soil  is  the  best  for 
herbs  in  general.  Many  which  are  not  hardy  in  the 
heavy  soil  of  the  flower  garden  come  safely  through  in 
the  light  soil  of  the  herb  garden.  Of  those  are  Sweet 
Marjoram,  Lavender,  and  Cedronella.  Roses,  Mallows, 
Aconites,  and  Mints  must  be  provided  with  some- 
thing a  little  richer,  but  when  the  garden  is  made  up  of 


296  MY  GARDEN 

little  beds,  it  is  a  simple  matter  to  provide  more  than  one 
kind  of  soil. 

In  the  choice  of  herbs  for  our  garden  our  ideal  is  that 
of  Erasmus,  "To  have  nothing  here  but  Sweet  Herbs, 
and  these  only  choice  ones,  too." 

For  the  most  we  grow  perennials,  but  there  are  a  few 
annuals  without  which  no  collection  would  be  complete. 
Of  these  Borage,  herb  of  courage  and  glorifier  of  claret 
cup,  is  one  of  the  most  important,  its  soft-coloured  foli- 
age and  azure  flowers  making  it  a  striking  plant  for  any 
situation.  Once  sown  it  is  ever  with  us,  for  the  seeds  are 
hardy  and  spring  up  year  after  year.  Then  there  are 
the  five  annuals  esteemed  for  their  seeds,  Anise,  Dili, 
Cumin,  Caraway,  and  Coriander — all  pretty  and  grace- 
ful enough  if  rather  fleeting.  Saffron  bears  a  pretty 
yellow  flower  and  is  worth  growing,  and  Calendula 
officinalis,  the  Pot  Marigold  of  other  days,  must  have  a 
place,  both  for  its  fine  tawny  colour  and  for  its  many 
uses  and  traditions.  Parsley  and  Chervil  belong  here, 
and  the  latter  provides  quite  as  pretty  a  garnish  as 
the  former.  The  brothers  Basil,  "sweet"  and  "bush 
green,"  the  latter  growing  into  the  most  fetching  little 
bushes  imaginable,  are  indispensable  and  give  to  salad 
and  stew  a  decided  piquancy.  The  great  Florence 
Fennel  is  an  annual  and  a  most  beautiful  plant,  rising 
some  four  or  five  feet  and  spreading  its  broad  yellow 
umbrellas  over  the  garden  in  a  striking  manner.  Sum- 
mer Savoury  is  a  small-leaved  aromatic  little  bush  with 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  297 

clouds  of  tiny  white  flowers,  and  no  scent  or  savour  is 
better  than  that  of  Sweet  Marjoram,  a  plant  which  we 
dare  not  be  without,  for  it  is  reputed  a  cure  for  stupidity, 
a  malady  that  our  optimistic  forefathers  believed  to 
be  acute  rather  than  chronic,  and  so,  susceptible  of 
cure.  A  small,  blue-flowered  Woodruff,  Asperula  azurea 
setosa;  Rock  Camomile,  Anthemis  arabica,  and  the  tall 
white  Opium  Poppy  complete  our  list  of  annuals,  and  none 
need  special  culture  save  that  Caraway  is  best  treated 
as  a  biennial  and  that  Summer  Savoury,  Anise,  and 
the  Basils  are  tender  and  should  not  be  sown  out  of  doors 
until  the  ground  is  warm  and  all  danger  from  frost  is  past. 

Spaces  are  left  between  the  perennials  where  these 
fugitive  ones  are  sown  every  year,  and,  of  course,  many 
take  the  matter  into  their  own  hands  and  spring  up  in 
the  joints  of  the  paths,  against  the  white  fence  among 
the  Damask  Roses,  and  all  about,  after  the  manner  of 
their  kind. 

When  one  comes  to  perennials  there  is  so  much  that 
is  sweet  and  pleasant  that  it  is  difficult  to  know  where  to 
begin,  but  perhaps  of  all  herbs  there  are  none  quite  so 
delightful  as  the  Thymes.  Each  year  I  find  myself 
giving  them  more  room  and  rejoicing  exceedingly  when, 
in  searching  some  foreign  catalogue,  I  come  upon  a 
variety  which  I  have  not.  For  the  most  part  Thymes 
are  low-growing,  bushy  little  plants  with  deliciously 
scented  small  foliage.  The  Woolly-leaved  Thyme  (T. 
lanuginosus)  spreads  a  soft-coloured,  close-growing  car- 


298  MY  GARDEN 

pet  along  the  edges  of  the  borders,  and  the  varieties  of  T. 
Serpyllum,  the  Wild  Mountain  Thyme,  are  also  of  the 
carpeting  type.  There  are  T.  S.  coccineus,  covered 
with  bright  crimson  flowers,  and  splendens,  a  somewhat 
improved  form — and  this  year  I  had  the  great  good 
fortune  to  find  in  an  English  catalogue  seeds  of  the  rare 
white-flowered  Thyme.  In  this  same  treasure-trove 
of  a  catalogue  I  also  found  T.  azoricus,  a  little  shrubby 
variety  with  purple  flowers.  These  two  "finds"  are  en- 
trusted to  the  frames,  and  I  am  impatiently  awaiting 
their  fragrant  arrival  above  ground.  T.  Serpyllum  has 
several  fine  forms  besides  the  white  and  crimson,  chief 
among  which  is  the  Lemon-scented  (citriodorus) ,  with 
its  silver-leaved  and  gold-leaved  variations,  both  lovely 
for  edging  the  beds  of  sober-clad  herbs.  T.  S.  micans 
is  a  fine-leaved,  two-inch  alpine  species  with  purple 
flowers,  which  is  happier  in  the  joints  between  the 
bricks  than  in  the  beds,  and  T.  vulgaris,  the  Broad- 
leaved  English  Thyme,  so  much  in  requisition  for 
seasoning,  forms  a  very  nice  little  bush  with  dark,  ever- 
green foliage  of  a  most  pleasant  scent.  There  are  three 
other  species  which  I  hope  to  add  before  another  sum- 
mer: Chamaedrys,  with  several  varieties;  carnosus,  said 
to  grow  nearly  a  foot  tall,  and  villosus,  from  Portugal. 
Nearly  all  the  beds  in  the  herb  garden  are  edged  with 
some  sort  of  Thyme,  and  one  may  not  have  too  much  of 
it,  for  this  small  sweet  herb  has  the  power  to  drive  sad- 
ness from  our  hearts. 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  299 

The  Artemisias  also  make  valuable  contributions  to 
our  herb  garden,  the  best  beloved  of  which  is  A.  Abro- 
tanum — Southernwood,  Old  Man,  or  Lads  Love,  as  it  is 
variously  called,  a  woody  bush,  some  two  feet  tall,  with 
hoary,  feathery  foliage  and  a  strong,  bitter  smell,  at  once 
balmy  and  exhilarating.  Steeped  in  oil  it  is  good  to  rub 
limbs  benumbed  by  the  cold,  and  I  can  well  imagine  its 
warming  and  stimulating  effect.  A.  argentea  and 
Stellariana  are  pretty,  silvery  foliaged  varieties  about 
a  foot  tall.  A.  vulgaris  is  tall  with  whitish  leaves. 
This  is  the  Mugwort  and  is  much  in  demand  in  rural 
neighbourhoods  for  all  sorts  of  homely  uses.  A. 
absinthium,  which  gives  its  name  to  the  famous  French 
liquor,  should  be  included,  and,  of  course,  Tarragon, 
which  belongs  to  this  family  and  is  one  of  the  most  use- 
ful and  piquant  of  herbs.  Parkinson  says  that  this  plant 
was  supposedly  created  by  "putting  the  seeds  of  Lin  or 
Flax  into  the  roote  of  an  onion  and  so  set  in  the  ground, 
which  when  it  hath  sprung,  hath  brought  forth  the 
herbe  Taragon."  He  adds,  however,  lest  we  waste  our 
time  in  experiment,  that  "this  absurd  and  idle  opinion 
hath  by  certain  experience  been  proved  false." 

The  two  Lavender  Cottons — Santolina  incana  and  S. 
chamaecyparissus — are  both  nice  shrubby  little  plants 
with  silvery  foliage  and  a  strong,  pungent  smell.  Many 
herbs  wear  sober  grayish  coats.  Hoarhound  is  one  of 
these,  though  it  is  not  otherwise  very  pretty,  and  the 
lovely  Nepeta  Mussini  with  its  continuous  spikes  of 


300  MY  GARDEN 

lavender  bloom.  Lavender,  of  course,  has  gray  foliage, 
and  is  one  of  the  most  cherished  of  my  herbs,  for  in  our 
severe  climate  we  must  go  to  a  little  trouble  for  its 
sweet  sake.  I  lost  a  sad  number  of  plants  during  the 
years  before  we  made  the  herb  garden,  but  I  think  they 
are  safer  now  in  a  place  prepared  for  them.  We  made  a 
narrow  border  along  the  wall  of  the  garden  house — the 
exposure  is  southern  and  the  soil  poor  and  gravelly,  and 
in  the  winter  we  protect  the  plants  with  a  blanket  of 
leaves  over  the  roots  held  in  place  by  light  branches. 
We  grow  three  kinds:  L.  spica,  the  broad-leaved;  L.  vera, 
the  narrow-leaved,  which  is  I  think  the  hardier;  and  a 
dwarf,  compact  sort  called  Munstead  Dwarf.  There  is  a 
lovely  white-flowered  Lavender  which  I  have  not  yet, 
but  as  it  is  said  to  be  less  robust  than  the  purple,  per- 
haps I  could  not  keep  it.  This  hot,  dry  border  was  also 
designed  to  hold  Rosemary,  but  after  several  bitter 
losses  I  have  given  it  up  as  too  tender  for  our  winters — 
and  filled  its  place  with  Thyme. 

Rue,  Ruta  graveolens,  is  a  beautiful  low  bush  with 
metallic  foliage,  said  to  be  strongly  antiseptic.  Pliny 
says  it  was  an  ingredient  in  eighty-four  remedies — bitter 
ones  they  must  have  been,  for  the  leaves  of  Rue  are  acrid 
to  a  degree.  It  is  easily  raised  from  seed  and  grows  in 
sun  or  shade.  Only  less  bitter  to  the  taste  is  Hyssop, 
Hyssopus  officinalis,  and  how  terrible  must  have  been 
that  cough  syrup,  once  much  in  vogue,  of  Rue  and 
Hyssop  boiled  in  honey!  However,  Hyssop  is  a  very 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  301 

charming  plant  with  small  dark  foliage  and  bright-blue 
flowers  which  last  a  long  time.  The  little  bushes  should 
be  cut  over  in  spring  to  keep  them  shapely.  In  the 
same  bed  with  it  grows  a  pretty  aromatic-leaved  herb  of 
which  I  am  very  fond — Cedronella  cana,  sometimes 
called  Balm  of  Gilead,  with  spikes  of  wine-red  blossoms 
with  blue  stamens  and  a  neat,  bushlike  form.  Berga- 
mot  (Monardd)  is  here,  too,  both  the  wine-coloured  and 
the  white  with  its  scented  foliage,  than  which  nothing  is 
more  delicious.  It  is  still  used  in  the  manufacture  of 
"sweet  waters." 

Tansy  and  Costmary  are  two  old-fashioned  plants, 
nearly  related  but  differing  widely  in  appearance. 
Tansy,  Tanacetum  vulgare,  is  a  tall  plant  with  beautiful 
foliage  and  flat,  dull  gold  flower  heads  borne  in  the  late 
summer.  It  has  escaped  from  cultivation  and,  with 
other  free  spirits,  decorates  the  roadsides  in  many  lo- 
calities, where  it  is  eagerly  sought  by  those  who  know 
the  efficacy  of  Tansy  Tea  in  spring,  or  wish  to  hang 
branches  of  it  near  the  doors  and  windows  of  their 
dwellings  to  attract  flies  from  the  rooms.  Costmary 
(Tanacetum  balsamita),  also  called  Alecost  and  Bible- 
leaf,  the  latter  from  the  use  made  of  the  long  leaves 
as  marks  in  the  Bible,  is  so  entirely  out  of  use  and 
fashion  that  it  is  well  nigh  impossible  to  get  it.  My  own 
came  to  me  through  a  dear  Quaker  lady,  from  an  old 
garden  in  Germantown,  and  is  one  of  my  most  prized 
possessions.  It  has  a  tuft  of  long  green  leaves,  snipped 


302  MY  GARDEN 

about  the  edges  and  giving  forth  a  most  tantalizingly 
familiar  but  illusive  fragrance,  and  its  tall  stem,  "spread- 
eth  itself  into  three  or  foure  branches,  every  one  bear- 
ing an  umbell  or  tuft  of  gold-yellow  flowers."  In 
the  old  days  it  was  used  to  give  zest  to  ale,  but  the  dried 
leaves  were  more  in  demand  for  tying  up  in  little  bags 
with  "lavender  toppes"  to  "lie  upon  the  toppes  of 
bedds  and  presses,  &c.,  for  the  sweete  sent  and  savour  it 
casteth." 

We  grow  two  of  the  Salvia  family  here  and  sometimes 
three,  for  the  annual  Horminum  called  "Red  Top  or 
Purple  Top,"  according  to  the  colour  of  its  gay  leaf- 
bracts,  is  pretty  and  in  order.  S.  officinalis,  the  Sage  of 
stews  and  stuffings,  is  the  one  herb  to  be  found  in  nearly 
every  kitchen  garden.  It  makes  a  spreading  bush  with 
beautiful  velvet  leaves  and  spikes  of  blue-purple  flowers 
greatly  appreciated  by  bees.  It  loves  a  sunny  corner 
in  well-drained  soil.  A  less  known  Salvia,  and  one  diffi- 
cult to  find,  is  S.  sclarea,  Clary,  or  Clear-eyes,  a  very 
tall  plant,  with  broad,  soft  foliage,  once  used  to  flavour 
certain  kinds  of  beer,  but  mainly  relied  upon  as  a  cure 
for  all  troubles  of  the  eye.  It  is  a  biennial,  so  we  start 
the  seeds  in  the  nursery  and  set  the  plants  in  the  herb 
garden  at  the  beginning  of  their  second  season,  allowing 
them  plenty  of  room. 

Mints  belong  here,  of  course,  but  several  kinds  are  so 
plentiful  in  a  wild  state  that  we  grow  only  two — a  varie- 
gated form  of  the  Apple  Mint,  Mentha  rotundifolia,  and 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  303 

the  wee  Corsican,  M .  Requieni,  which  creeps  between 
the  bricks  and  has  a  good  scent.  Some  other  Mints  are: 
M.  Pulegium,  Pennyroyal;  M.  sylvestris,  Horse  Mint; 
M.  piperita,  Common  Peppermint,  and  M.  viridis, 
Spearmint. 

Comfrey,  Symphytum  officinale,  is  a  plant  about  the 
virtues  of  which  history  is  strangely  silent,  though  it  is 
often  mentioned  with  great  respect,  and  one  of  its  names 
is  "Healing  herb."  It  is  rather  too  coarse  and  per- 
vasive for  even  a  large  garden,  but  we  tolerate  the  golden- 
leaved  variety  for  the  sake  of  its  pretty  blue  flowers. 
Balm,  Melissa  officinalis,  with  its  highly  fragrant  leaves, 
is  another  plant  which  must  be  kept  well  in  check,  but 
has  ever  been  of  the  greatest  importance.  It  is  both  a 
"hot"  and  a  "sweet"  herb,  and  was  much  used  in  baths 
to  "warm  and  comfort  the  veins  and  sinewes."  Good 
for  "greene  wounds"  and  bee  stings,  "it  also  putteth 
away  the  cares  of  the  mynde,  and  troublesome  imagina- 
tion." Valuable  indeed! 

The  four  central  beds  of  the  garden  are  given  up  to 
one  kind  of  plant  each:  Winter  Savoury,  Camomile, 
Germander,  and  Pot  Marjoram.  The  first,  Satureia 
montana,  is  a  delightful  little  bushy  plant,  with  small, 
highly  aromatic  leaves  and  a  haze  of  tiny  white  flowers. 
It  loves  a  sunny  spot  and  poor,  gravelly  soil;  indeed,  in 
heavy  soil  it  is  not  supposed  to  be  quite  winter-proof. 
It  is  still  much  used  for  culinary  purposes,  and  I  have  a 
vague  childhood  memory  that  it  used  to  be  bound  upon 


304  MY  GARDEN 

our  numerous  bee  stings  to  draw  out  the  poison.     It  is 
easily  raised  from  seed. 

Camomile,  Anthemis  nobilis,  is  not  very  pretty,  but 
it  has  so  many  virtues  that  it  must  needs  be  given  a 
prominent  place.  It  is  called  the  "plant  physician," 
and  not  only  gives  aid  to  frail  humanity  in  distress,  but 
to  its  brothers  and  sisters  of  the  plant  world.  It  is  said 
that  if  Camomile  is  placed  near  any  weak  or  ailing  plant 
it  at  once  revives.  Besides  this,  it  quiets  the  baby, 
breaks  up  colds,  drives  away  insects,  secures  us  against 
bad  dreams  if  placed  beneath  the  pillow,  and  its  flower 
heads  are  made  into  a  valuable  medicine  in  use  at  the 
present  day.  It  is  easily  raised  from  seed,  but  may 
usually  be  found  growing  wild. 

Germander,  Teucrium  Chamaedrys,  is  a  nice  little 
woody  plant  with  rose-coloured  blossoms  and  pleas- 
antly scented  foliage.  In  Elizabethan  days  it  was 
chiefly  used  to  edge  the  quaint  garden  "Knottes,"  and 
also,  on  account  of  its  purifying  redolence,  as  a  "strew- 
ing herb."  It  blooms  late  in  the  summer  and  seems 
happy  anywhere  in  the  sunshine.  Pot  Marjoram  is  one 
of  the  prettiest  plants  in  the  herb  garden.  It  is  semi- 
prostrate  in  growth,  and  the  graceful  branches  terminate 
in  flat  heads  of  soft  pink  flowers.  The  whole  plant  is 
deliciously  sweet  and  one  wants  a  lot  of  it.  Oil  of 
Marjoram  is  comforting  to  stiff  joints,  and  it  was,  in  the 
old  days,  greatly  in  demand  in  making  sweet  bags,  sweet 
powders,  and  sweet  washing  waters — all  so  pleasant  to 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  305 

think  upon.  It  is,  of  course,  much  used  in  our  present- 
day  cooking, 

We  must  have  a  few  clumps  of  Chives,  with  their 
pretty  upstanding  flower  heads,  which  as  children  we 
called  "tasty  tufts."  Nothing  is  so  stimulating  to  the 
salad,  and  if  the  plants  are  cut  over  occasionally  new 
blades  will  spring  up.  Garden  Burnet,  so  well  thought 
of  by  Bacon,  must  have  a  place  for  the  sake  of  its  beauti- 
ful foliage,  and  Chicory  with  its  "dear  blue  eyes,"  and 
yellow-flowered  Fennel,  famous  in  fish  sauces.  Ram- 
pion  also,  Campanula  rampunculoides,  with  its  spikes 
of  pretty  purple  bells,  the  roots  of  which  are  highly 
spoken  of  in  the  old  cook  books,  and  tall  rather  gawky 
Angelica,  the  stems  of  which  are  still  made  into  a  sweet- 
meat. 

Certain  kinds  of  Roses  were  of  the  greatest  impor- 
tance in  the  practice  of  medicine,  in  cookery,  and  in 
matters  of  the  toilet,  so  an  herb  garden  without  these 
would  certainly  be  incomplete.  Says  Parkinson:  "The 
Rose  is  of  exceeding  great  use  to  us;  for  the  Damask 
Rose  (beside  the  super-excellent  sweetwater  it  yieldeth 
being  distilled,  or  the  perfume  of  the  leaves  being  dried, 
serving  to  fill  sweete  bags)  serveth  to  cause  solubleness 
of  the  body,  made  into  a  Syrupe,  or  preserved  with 
sugar  moist  or  dry  candied.  The  Damask  Provence 
Rose  is  not  onely  for  sent  nearest  of  all  Roses  unto  the 
Damask,  but  in  the  operation  of  solubility  also.  The 
Red  Rose  hath  many  physicall  uses  much  more  than  any 


306  MY  GARDEN 

other,  serving  for  many  sorts  of  compositions  both 
cordial  and  cooling,  both  binding  and  loosing.  The 
White  Rose  is  much  used  for  the  cooling  of  heate  in  the 
eyes;  divers  doe  make  an  excellent  yellow  colour  of  the 
juice  of  white  Roses,  wherein  some  Allome  is  dissolved." 
And  so  we  may  properly  have  Damask  and  Provence 
Roses  and  sweet  Rosa  alba,  and,  besides  these,  the  early 
authorities  attribute  virtues  to  the  Musk  Rose  and  the 
Sweet  Brier.  As  closely  allied  to  the  Provence  and 
Damask  Roses,  we  include  the  lovely  Moss  Roses  and 
the  quaint  old  York  and  Lancaster,  and  I  am  sure  they 
grow  among  the  herbs  of  old,  they  look  so  at  home 
among  ours. 

Many  of  the  sweet-smelling  leaves  of  the  herb  garden 
may  be  dried  and  sewed  up  in  little  "taffety"  or  muslin 
bags  to  place  among  linen,  and,  of  course,  one  wishes  to 
preserve  the  leaves  and  seeds  useful  in  the  kitchen. 
Pleasant  indeed  it  is  to  make  one's  way  about  the  nar- 
row paths,  one's  skirts  at  every  step  invoking  clouds  of 
aromatic  incense  from  the  crowding  plants,  culling  here 
and  there  one  kind  at  a  time,  the  most  promising  shoots 
or  flower  heads,  and  piling  them  in  fragrant  heaps  in  the 
broad  shallow  garden  basket.  The  old  books  teem  with 
quaint  rules  and  instructions,  largely  superstitions,  for 
the  harvesting  of  herbs,  but  we  have  not  room  here  to  be 
aught  but  brief  and  practical.  A  breezy,  sunny  day  is 
the  best  for  this  agreeable  task;  just  before  they  flower 
is  the  proper  time  for  cutting  plants  wanted  for  their 


THE  HERB  GARDEN  307 

leaves,  and  when  the  flower  heads  are  required,  as  with 
Lavender,  Camomile,  and  Marigolds,  they  are  most  de- 
sirable before  being  fully  open.  When  seed  is  wanted 
the  plant  must,  of  course,  be  allowed  to  flower  and  fully 
mature  its  seed.  Flower  heads  or  leaf  stalks  should 
then  be  tied  into  small  bunches,  and  hung  in  an  airy, 
shady  place — shady,  "that  the  sun  draw  not  out  their 
virtue."  When  quite  dry  the  leaves  may  be  stripped 
from  the  stalks  and  rubbed  through  a  fine  sieve  and  put 
in  tightly  corked  and  labelled  bottles. 

Many  good  and  pleasant  things  may  be  made  from 
the  products  of  the  herb  garden,  and  the  collecting  of  old 
books  on  cookery,  household  matters,  or  of  the  toilet  be- 
comes a  most  gripping  passion.  There  is  no  room  to  tell 
of  the  cordials,  wines,  vinegars,  blends  for  glorifying  the 
humble  stew  or  stimulating  the  salad,  sweet  waters,  and 
bags  for  invigorating  baths,  as  well  as  for  the  linen  chest, 
that  one  may  have  by  growing  these  humble  plants,  but 
any  one  who  does  grow  themjwill  not  long  allow  them  to 
go  unused.  The  old  custom  of  putting  bags  of  sweet 
herbs  under  the  door  mat,  that  balmy  odours  might 
enter  with  the  guests,  is  certainly  a  pleasing  one,  and 
also  that  of  hanging  such  bags  in  doorways  or  windows, 
or  placing  them  beneath  the  chair  cushions. 

In  Donald  McDonald's  book  of  "Fragrant  Flowers 
and  Leaves,"  for  which  all  those  interested  in  the  subject 
should  be  grateful,  he  says:  "Man  alone  seems  born 
sensible  to  the  delights  of  perfumes  and  employs  them 


308  MY  GARDEN 

to  give  energy  to  his  feelings,  for  animals  and  insects  in 
general  shun  them."  And  it  is  to  fragrance  that  the 
enduring  charm  of  the  herb  garden  is  attributable. 
Many  people  are  insensible  to  beauty  of  form  and  con- 
tour, some  have  little  sense  for  colour,  but  few  are  proof 
against  the  peculiar  appeal  of  perfume,  for  is  not  per- 
fume after  all  less  food  for  the  senses  than  for  the  soul? 


THE   END 


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